


Little Bit Strange, But Still Special

by Feygan



Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Anita Blake
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bunita, Crossover, Crossover Pairing, F/M, M/M, Portals, Slash, Spike loves Xander
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-12-16
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2017-10-13 17:19:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feygan/pseuds/Feygan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a Buffyverse that went differently, Xander and Spike end up in Anita-land and have to make a place for themselves.  *Slash* Xander/Spike</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ONE

\-- **1999** \--

 

Sometimes it hurt so much he almost forgot to breathe. If he could have, he would have sunk into the silence and not let any of it touch him. It just wasn't fair.

For his entire life there had been so much he had wanted and never gotten to have. Love--that was something for other people. And now when he thought he might be feeling it himself, it wasn't reciprocated.

He was fucking pathetic. As usual.

It was pretty funny when he thought about it. All the times he talked shit to Buffy about her and Angel, yet here he was lusting after a vampire himself. He didn't even have the excuse of saying his lover had a soul, because he didn't.

Spike was a cold-blooded killer and a real asshole on a good day. And when he got into a mood... Xander was afraid of him. He still wanted him, but he was scared too. It was all just so stupid.

He didn't really know why he let Spike fuck him all the time. He should know better. He had been a Slayerette for two years already. He had helped save the world on innumerable occasions and was right now in the midst of helping the Slayer stop the Mayor with his evil plans... whatever they were.

Yet here he was in bed with Spike again in some no-name-all-shame motel.

If he wasn't such a coward he'd probably kill himself, just put himself out of his misery. But he was too lame to even do that much. Razor blades and poison were just too scary, way more than vampires and demons.

I fucking suck, he thought, throwing his arm over his eyes. He was lying sprawled on the double bed. He didn't want to watch as Spike pulled his skintight jeans back on and walked away without a single backward glance.

"Thanks, pet, you're always a good shag," Spike said, patting his bare leg quickly before taking his hand back. Xander refused to want that touch back. There was the click of a lighter and the whiff of cigarette smoke.

"Yeah, thanks," Xander said, keeping his arm firmly in place.

There was the rustle of leather as Spike pulled his coat back on. "Gotta go, now, lots of evil for the Big Bad, you know how it is."

"Whatever."

There was a moment of silence. "We do this again sometime?"

Xander wanted to say no, wanted to scream that this wasn't ever going to happen again. He wasn't going to let Spike fuck him, not ever again. But he didn't, because he knew it wasn't true. Experience had taught him otherwise, because no matter how many times he had told himself this wasn't going to happen, here he was on the bed, the edge of the soggy spot soaking against his side. He didn't even have the will to shift and move.

"Call me," he finally said, "next time you're in town. Just don't expect me to cheer when you try and kill one of my best friends, all right?"

"Fair enough. Ta, luv, see you soon, promise. Kisses." And Spike was gone, the door closing with a dull thump, the breeze of its passage making Xander's skin prickle with goose bumps.

Lying there on the bed, Xander really had to wonder how things had gotten like this, when everything had gotten so weird. A part of him wanted to blame Angel for all of his problems. If Angel hadn't offered him to Spike at parent-teacher night, Spike wouldn't have come back for him and he could have gone on with his life as Alexander Lavelle Harris, Slayerette and Zeppo.

Now things were different though. He was still a Zeppo, but he was also Spike's fuck-toy whenever the vampire came into town. And he couldn't even get up the force of will to try to change things because a part of him liked it, liked being able to touch and be touched by Spike, William the Bloody, one-fourth of the Scourge of Europe.

Xander knew it was stupid, but he couldn't help feeling a little special that the Big Bad found him worth the time to fuck. Spike sometimes came to Sunnydale just to meet with Xander, not even to cause trouble, just to spend a few hours with him. It somehow made Xander feel like less of a screw up, and he couldn't even explain why.

What the hell is the matter with me? Xander thought. Tears trickled down the corners of his eyes and he didn't even have the strength of will to wipe them away.

His life was just so messed up.

I love Spike, he thought, and it tasted like truth. But he knew that Spike would never love him, because Spike was evil and there was no way that the vampire would ever let himself love a human. Spike had Drusilla for love, and Xander for an easy lay.

It's not fair.

 

***

 

For some strange reason he wanted to stay with the whelp a while longer, but he knew he couldn't. He had to get back to Dru before she got herself into trouble. Ever since she'd gotten her strength back, she'd been acting out more and more.

He hated to admit it, but she had been much easier to deal with when she was weak. When Dru had been dependent on him for everything, she had been his perfect love, his dark princess, the object of his affectionate worship. He had taken care of her, kept her safe from the rest of the world, and she had been his and his alone. Sure, when Angelus had come back she'd dragged around after her Daddy, but Spike had shown her what was what, and in the process he'd gotten her back up to strength.

It was kind of ironic that now she was back to how she'd been before Prague and the mob, she'd drifted away from him. Once she was strong again in body, she didn't need him to be her protector and guide. She was his Sire again, and it was like he was supposed to go back to being weak William or something, dependent on her for everything.

Part of him wanted to grab her and force her to do what he wanted, but at the same time he was afraid of pushing her away, so he let her have the room to act on her own, no matter how much it hurt. He couldn't help looking at her and remembering how weak she'd been, how soft and pliant, vulnerable to his will, though he had done everything in his power to make her happy.

It was like, as long as she was weak she was his. Now that she was strong again, she didn't need him as much, and she pushed him away and it hurt like a stake to the chest, nudging against his heart, not quite but almost piercing it through.

Sometimes he looked at his Dru and didn't know her. He would see her face, but he'd hear another voice in his head saying hurtful, hateful things and he could almost believe he was as crazy as his dark princess and he just wanted to run away from it all.

"...you're a good boy William, and Mummy loves you. Someday you'll meet a girl that will love you as much as I do..."

"...how can I love you? You are beneath me..."

Strangely, when he was burying himself balls deep into Xander Harris, all the voices were quiet and he could feel like himself again. He could gaze down at that rapturous face as he thrust, thrust, thrust and know he was at the top of the food chain, that no one was ever going to bring him down again.

He didn't even question why he always had sex with Xander face to face. It would have been easier with Xander on his knees while he fucked him from behind... but they always ended up face-to-face, and he never let himself wonder why.

The boy was the last thing Angelus had ever given him, and it didn't even matter anymore that it hadn't really been Angelus at all, but the souled shadow he'd become. Xander was his now, and Spike was never going to give him back.

Stomping down the sidewalk toward his car, he growled silently at a fledgling lurking in the shadows. He smirked when the pathetic fledge ran away with what sounded like a whimper of fear.

Fucking Xander made him feel better in some way he didn't want to explain, but now he was going back to Dru, back where he belonged.

It only took a little effort to ignore the tiny voice inside him that screamed for him to walk back into that motel room and curl around the human warmth waiting for him, to just forget about everything else and let Drusilla get along her own way. She didn't need him anymore, was seeming to actively push him away.

And Xander would make a wonderful Childe...

.

.

\-- **2000** \--

 

The road had stretched out before him, but he hadn't been able to keep on going, no matter how much he wanted to. With his hands tight on the wheel of the car, he had wanted to keep his foot on the gas and let the road take him, to just keep driving and driving until he fell off the edge of the world. Instead he had found himself stopping in L.A. and checking into a cheap motel. And once he was stopped, he hadn't been able to go any further.

A month later and he was working in a restaurant as a dishwasher, about the only job his high school diploma could get him. He didn't have any better prospect other than to wash dishes forever. And for some reason, he didn't seem to even mind.

The days just seemed to merge one into the next, flowing before him in a tide of uncaring depression. He knew he was falling apart inside, and it didn't even matter. It was just good not to have to feel for awhile, to drift along completely unanchored from any kind of worries.

He didn't think of the friends and family he'd left behind in Sunnydale. It had been a relief to get away from his abusive, alcoholic parents, and as for his friends... well, they just didn't seem to matter right now.

His days were wrapped up in the restaurant and slinking home to his rattrap one-room apartment to sleep away the rest of his life. Nothing seemed to matter and he didn't feel anything at all. He was dead inside.

"Harris, Cotton didn't show up and we're short on waiters tonight. Can you go out there and take his place?" Paul, his boss, asked. "You and Steven are about the same size. You can wear his spare uniform, no problem."

Xander blinked at the guy for a moment, not quite comprehending what was being asked of him for a moment. Then he bobbed his head in a nod. "Sure, no prob. Just give me a minute and I'll be out there."

"Thanks so much," Paul gushed in relief. "We've got all these bigwigs from some law firm in here tonight and the boss would have my head if we didn't give them topnotch service. You're a real life saver, Harris."

Xander shrugged and mouthed, "Whatever." He went to go change.

He knew some of the other guys around here thought he was a little slow in the head, but it didn't seem to matter, not like it would have to puppy-like eager-to-please past-Xander. He was drifting in a place of perfect unfeeling and he didn't want to be woken up, didn't want to have to care about anything, not ever again. It was just too painful to lose something--someone--that he loved.

It was so easy to just let everything go. He wasn't Xander Harris, Slayerette to Buffy anymore. He was Xander Harris, dishwasher at the Silver Phoenix Bar and Grill. He never would have thought being a different person would be so easy.

Once changed into Steven's waiter's uniform, which was only a little tight across the shoulders, he drew in a deep breath and pushed open the kitchen door, walking out into the restaurant proper.

He ignored Halley's appreciative whistle and headed over toward where Paul waited. The woman had been hitting on him since his first day on the job. She refused to take no for an answer, and even though she was very attractive, he just wasn't able to reciprocate any kinds of feeling toward her. He was just too dead inside to start any kind of relationship with anyone, even if it was just mindless sex.

"Are you sure you know what to do?" Paul asked, handing over a stack of menus.

Xander rubbed the vinyl cover of the top menu with his hand and gave Paul a small smile. "I've waitered before," he said, "just not anywhere as nice as this."

Paul looked relieved, though a little irritated too. "Why didn't it say that on your resume? There have been other times when we've been looking for an experienced waiter and could have used you. The pay would have been much better for you too."

Xander shrugged. "I was comfortable just washing dishes," he said, turning away.

He could feel Paul looking at him, wondering about him. He tried to care about Paul's paying attention to him, but couldn't manage it. He just felt nothing.

"Hello, I'm Alex, and I'll be your waiter for this evening," he said, facing the group of expensively dressed lawyers.

They barely glanced at him, and what looks met his were purely in dismissal. As they began spouting out their orders, he felt about as animate as a McDonald's drive-thru order box.

Carefully writing down what they wanted to eat, he recited the wine list Paul had thoughtfully scrawled across the bottom of his order pad. He kept his voice soft and even, just barely short of bored.

As he finished and was turning away, he accidentally caught the eye of one of the lawyers. A handsome brown haired man with a sweet face marred only by the cynical look in his eye. The guy saw him looking and flashed a sudden and bright smile, full of charm and interest, not to mention teeth.

Xander hurriedly looked away and continued on toward the kitchen to post their order. The guy was almost stupidly pretty, but there was something about the group of lawyers he was with that made Xander's skin crawl, and usually the people a person hung out with was a sign of how they were. Xander didn't even want a relationship, but if he'd been trolling for a new significant other, it wouldn't be someone that played on the wrong side. He just didn't want to get burned by anymore evil people, demon or otherwise.

The night passed in a blur of orders taken and food served. He felt as if he had fallen back into a long-forgotten groove. He gave people their food and accepted his share of the tips and created a personable appearance.

It was while he was bringing the table of lawyers their check that the doors of the restaurant burst open with the crackle of breaking wood. The vampires and demons that came in were completely out of control.

"What the hell are you doing?" one of the lawyer guys demanded in a pompous voice, striding forward to face the leader of the vampires. His own people tried to pull him back, but he jerked himself out of their grasp.

The lead vampire, full game face in effect, looked the man over. "Well what do we have here? Dinner trying to act all tough?" He laughed and grabbed the man, snapping his neck with one hard jerk before dropping the dead body contemptuously. He hadn't even bothered trying to drink the guy dry, which showed exactly what he thought about "dinner" acting all uppity.

"All right folks, just relax quietly and we'll be all finished here shortly," the vampire said, raising his voice so they all could hear.

"Are you going to rob us?" one of the diners asked. The man was obviously terrified, but was pretending at bravery.

The vampires and demons laughed. "No, stupid," the lead vampire said. "We're going to eat you, but if you struggle... well, more fun for us, extra pain for you. We don't really care how you want to do it, but we are going to be eating you all tonight. So sit back and enjoy your last living moments, and if you're really lucky, you'll wake up one of my minions. I always need more toys to play with, since they're always breaking." The vampire's eyes slid across the room, pausing here and there on the more attractive specimens. Xander didn't like how those eyes looked at him, like they wanted to eat him whole.

All his experience as a Slayerette should have had Xander ready to fight to the bitter end, but he was just too tired. Leaning against the edge of the lawyers' table, he crossed his arms over his chest and waited for what was going to happen. It was almost a relief to know that it was all about to be over. It felt good to just let go.

He'd been empty inside since graduation. He'd felt dead, so it didn't seem so bad to actually die for real. There didn't seem to be much of a difference between what he'd been living and dying.

Xander watched as the demons began ripping humans apart and as vampires greedily drank the blood of their victims. He knew he should have been outraged, or at least minorly terrified, but he felt nothing at all. Everything was as emotionally flat as if he was watching it happen on TV.

Then one of the vampires had Paul--someone he could almost consider a friend--and everything seemed to snap into focus for Xander. For the first time, it felt like he was really there, and he wasn't just seeing what was happening, he was really seeing it. He remembered why he hated vampires and why his life had become the way it was.

Seeing the rampaging vampires, Xander couldn't help the image that flashed behind his eyes of the dead, broken body of Cordelia, just tossed to the ground like she didn't mean anything. Her eyes had been open and glassy like a doll's, almost peaceful except for all the blood and torn flesh and the missing arm. A scream built up in the back of Xander's throat and he felt terror jolt through him.

He couldn't deal with this, he just couldn't... Then Halley was being grabbed by a big green demon with a horn in its forehead and Xander couldn't just stand by and watch.

"NO!" he screamed, throwing himself forward.

He didn't quite know what he was going to do about the demon, but he couldn't stop himself from trying to save Halley. She didn't deserve to die today, just like Cordy hadn't after surviving everything to reach graduation. No one deserved to die today, not if he was here to save them.

Wrapping his arms around the vampire holding Halley, he attempted to haul it away. "Get off her you sonuvabitch!" he screamed, using his left knee and his right foot to try and propel it away from Halley.

The vampire whirled with an angry growl. "You wanna die first, blood bag? Fine!"

It could have been almost funny. The angry vampire swinging his arms back and forth, trying to reach the human on his back. In his old life, Xander would have laughed to see something so stupid, but now he couldn't, not when it was him and there were so many people going to end up dead.

He managed to dodge the clawed hands of the vamp he was riding, but another one grabbed his hair and jerked him off. He yelled as a bloody handful of hair was ripped out of his scalp. "OW! Jesus Christ!" He whirled around on the new threat, still keeping his eye on the old.

"Well aren't you the spunky one," the vampire holding the chunk of his hair purred. Her face wasn't twisted up into its demon mask yet, so it was easy to see her sharp edged beauty. When she was alive, she had probably been someone to watch out for, which pretty much held true now that she was dead, just for a different reason.

"Why do you fucking vampires and demons always have to show up in my life?" Xander demanded, not even noticing the angry tears in his voice. "Whenever I turn around, there you are, screwing things up, making everything good into something ugly. Why can't you just leave me alone? I want it to be quiet now."

"Oh, it's gonna be quiet," the female vamp said. "It's gonna be quiet, and your blood's gonna be warm in my belly, while your body's gonna be warm in his." She jerked her thumb at a large purple demon with a dozen protruding eyes and an armful of gray bone spikes. The demon showed its teeth in a hungry, three-mouthed grin.

Xander barely glanced at the demon. "I've seen scarier," he said, pulling himself up tall. He knew he was going to die, but there was no way he was going out cowering. He wasn't really afraid, and he wasn't going to give anyone the idea that he was.

"You're just really stupid, aren't you?" she asked. She snorted. "Oh well, you don't have to be smart for us to enjoy killing you. Stupid's fun too."

"You know what they say, you are what you eat. So you must have been eating a lot of stupid people," Xander's smart-ass voice said.

She snarled and lashed out with a hard fist that Xander just barely managed to avoid. He had never moved so fast in his life, but it was lucky that he did. The strength of that blow probably would have broken his neck.

His stomach trembled with the knowledge of his mortality. He could have just died.

A fierce resolve jolted through him. There was no way he was going to die here and now. He had seen too much trouble and death. This was not going to be the place where he was going to die.

Meeting Halley's eyes across the room, he felt tears trickle down his cheeks, but none of that mattered.

This isn't going to happen, he thought.

Without pausing for second thoughts or regrets, he whirled on his heel and broke into a fast run, vaulting over the four and a half foot counter and into the kitchen area. He grabbed a pan and scooped up some of the oil out of the deep fryer and flung it back through the little window, straight into the face of the purple demon coming after him.

Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a matchbook. He fumbled it open, relieved to find three leftover matches inside. He lit one and tossed it through the window onto the demon, watching as it burst into flame and stumbled around like a ball of living fire, setting whatever it touched alight.

Still moving in that strangely slowed down state of panic and fear, Xander made a run for the backdoor. And he didn't stop running until he was four blocks away and collapsed to his knees gasping for breath and sobbing for the bravery he had left behind with high school-Xander.

He looked down at the matchbook he still clutched in his hand. It was a remnant from his days of Spike-fucking. "Sunnydale Resorts" was stamped on the faded gloss of the cover as though that seedy motel had been a better place than reality and his memory told him it was.

Looks like Spike has saved me again, he thought, then gave a hysterical giggle that quickly turned into all out sobs of grief and shame. He had betrayed everything that had made him a Scooby.

A whiff of smoke passed by his nose and he tried to ignore the flames lighting up the distance as the Silver Phoenix Bar and Grill burnt down and the people he hadn't had the bravery to save died along with his unlamented hopes for some kind of redemption.

He had lost Xander Harris and he didn't think he was ever going to get him back.

.

.

\-- **2000** \--

 

Another night of saving the world from the overwhelming advance of the forces of darkness. Which roughly translated to him slogging his way home while covered in a thick layer of demon goo. It was a truly miserable point in his life.

He had never imagined that he would end up like this. Having no other prospects than to work for Dead-Boy, back fighting the monsters, trying to bulk up on the bravery that he really didn't have much of anymore.

It was kind of funny, in a truly sick and twisted way. This so wasn't the life he had planned on living.

Angel had found him scavenging for food in a dumpster and had taken him in, giving him a job. And he was so pathetic that he was actually glad to be pitied by Angel, to be taken care of like he was a pet and forced to accept the help of the man--vampire--he had once despised with such overwhelming fervor. Only now, he could admit, if only to himself, that Angel really wasn't so bad, was actually kind of a good guy when he wasn't getting his evil on.

"Hey! Hey, Xander, wait up!"

Xander turned to see Doyle running after him. An unwilling smile tugged at his lips. The Irishman was as demon-goo coated as he was.

"What you doing going my way, I thought you lived on the other side of town?" Xander asked.

Doyle shrugged unconcernedly, though there was a faint hint of what might have been a blush on his cheeks. "I just... I didn't think you should walk home on your own. I saw that demon get you and... well, you looked like you needed some company."

"Some company, huh?" Xander snorted a laugh, but shrugged. "All right. I always like a bit of company."

He may have thought that he was never going to be happy again, that he was just going to live the rest of his life as a craven coward existing on the fringes of everything, but... He suddenly felt as though things were about to turn around for him.

 

***

 

"You know, when you're not being all Irish and everything, you're actually pretty cute."

"Thanks... I think."

"You're welcome."

WHAP!

 

***

 

"So, you wanna go get something to drink? You know, non work-related hanging of the outtage?"

"Are you asking me on a date?"

"Maybe, kind of, yeah. You know, if you say yes. Otherwise... this conversation never happened and you haven't seen me all day."

"Well then, I think I would like to have a drink with you. If you were asking."

"Oh, I'm asking."

"Good."

"Yeah, yeah, let me just go grab my jacket and we can... um. Let me just shut up and grab my jacket."

 

***

 

Warm skin rubbing against warm skin. Thrusting, pulsating warmth. The guttural cries of passion filling the air around them, straining the confines of the one-room apartment.

"Oh god... Oh... Please... more... make me..."

"Yeah... Ummmm..."

Delicate touches transformed by animal desire to wildness. Timeless moment captured in this reality of melting flesh. Heat and smoothness, velvet and leather, endless breaths shared one with the other, wordlessly vowing to never again be apart.

 

***

 

"Doyle! NO!"

He could only watch in horror as his lover was consumed by the light, both human and prickly demon flesh melting away until nothing was left behind, not even bones for him to worship in the grave. Doyle was dead.

Xander stood there, tears trickling unnoticed down his cheeks, his lips still tingling with the last kiss Doyle had given him. He didn't even notice as Angel grabbed his arm and gently tugged him away from the scene of the latest apocalypse, driving him back to the Hyperion in his brood-mobile.

All Xander could think about was Doyle and how everything good in his life was always taken away, no matter how hard he tried to keep it close and safe. He destroyed everything he loved.

He was cursed to always be alone.

.

.

\-- **2000** \--

 

Some days he could almost curse Doyle, except that Doyle was dead and Xander couldn't help still loving him. It was just that it hurt so damn bad every time a Vision hit. It was like his head was being split wide open by a buzzing chainsaw, and Angel and Wesley were no help in dealing with the pain. They just didn't understand, though they tried and that meant a lot. Kind of.

He was slumped back in his chair, his feet propped on his desk, his hands over his face when he Saw it.

.

FLASH: running, panicked breath drawn into lungs that really didn't need the air. Legs churning over the ground as it changed from grass to sidewalk to street to the cracked and chipped wood of an abandoned building.

Huddling into the close dark of some nameless room, feeling more helpless than he had in over a hundred years. More than anything he wanted Dru, or Angelus, or even the Slayer... anyone to save him, protect him, keep the bad men away.

Mummy. I want my mummy, some weak memory-voice whispered in his mind, but he pushed it back down. He wasn't that crawling worm anymore. He wasn't some mummy's boy whimpering in the dark, hiding away from the bad men that wanted to take him back to their government funded little lab of horrors. He was...

.

"Spike!" Xander shouted, snapping back into the Now.

He was on the ground, Wesley with his left arm across his chest holding him still and with his right palm against his forehead to keep him from bashing his brains out on the floor. "You back with us?"

Xander blinked and coughed. "Yeah, everything's groovy. But..." He pulled himself out of Wes' grasp to sit up shakily. "We have to help him. They're coming for him and he's so scared. I never thought he could ever be so scared."

"Who?" Angel asked, kneeling down next to him.

Xander looked at him, knowing that the two had an unhappy history, but right at this moment that didn't mean a damn thing. "Spike."

"Spike?" Angel growled.

Xander held out a hand, not-quite touching Angel's knee. "I know you guys had a thing, but... he really needs us. Something's happened to him, and I don't know what. But he's going to come here, and whether you like it or not, I'm going to help him. Because he was so scared and they hurt him so much and..." He could feel his face wanting to crumple, but there was no way he was going to cry. Not even when he thought of that perfect and vicious creature being warped and beaten down so much that he almost wasn't Spike anymore.

Angel stood and walked away. Xander had to strain to turn his head to see him standing facing the wall, his hands clasped behind his back, tension in every line of his body.

"I know you think you know Spike," Angel said. "But he's a vicious killer, no matter what anyone did to him. He has no conscience or remorse. And I know that sometimes he seems almost... human... but he's not. He's a monster."

"Then why did I have a Vision of him if we're not supposed to help him?" Xander asked, trying to still the frantic rush-rush of his heartbeat. He didn't want to think of the history he had with that particular monster. Not right now.

Angel turned to glare at him, but in the face of Xander's steady stare, his shoulders slumped a little. "Whatever. You just remember that no matter what happened to Spike... he can't be trusted. He'll twist you around his little finger if he can, play every sympathy card in the book... but deep down inside, he doesn't have a soul."

"And that's not his fault," Xander said.

"No," Angel said, almost visibly pulling the brood back around him. "It's Dru's fault. And she's mine."

 

***

 

L.A, city of Angels, home of Angel. God but he hated this town, but he needed it too, when he felt so lost and alone and all he wanted was to pull the memory of family around him, tight and close and somehow safe even in the midst of the psychotic crazy.

Stumbling down the street, feeling the emptiness in his bones, the starving-burn of unfulfillable hunger.

He felt so hollow inside and there was nothing he could do to fill himself back up. And when he least expected it, he would get the taste of ash in his mouth and feel himself beginning to crumble away. It was only pure will holding him together at this point... pure will and the desire to see his grandsire and say one last time, "I told you so. Humans can be monsters too."

He knew that Angel wouldn't help him. Hell, even Angelus would have just laughed and watched him burn up from the inside. But more than anything, when he went, he wanted it to be around someone that knew him, someone that reeked of the blood of Aurelius, of his line.

It was pathetic, but he didn't want to die alone.

And then there it was, the Hyperion Hotel, a beacon of light burning in the distance. It was his salvation, his chance to finally let go, to not have to hold onto this misery anymore. To just slip away and not have to pretend that he was strong even when he knew deep down that all he was was weak.

 

***

 

He was so skinny. God, but he was just skin stretched tight over the bone. It was horrifying to look at him, to see him ever being that pathetic.

For a moment there, Xander had wanted more than anything for that not to be Spike. But it was. Weak and reeking of fear, the smell of death permeating the air around him, beautiful even in his final dying, it was Spike.

Standing swaying in the lobby, his clothes tattered and torn, he looked like a refugee from hell. Even Angel was visibly horrified at the state he was in, the reality of it finally sinking in, that Spike was in bad trouble, that Spike really needed help.

"Jesus Christ..." Xander quietly cursed.

Spike's head turned in his direction, his eyes widening a little in surprise before a slight smile quirked his sunken lips. "Nah, pet, it's just me." Then he collapsed, his legs falling out from under him, his body hitting the floor with a dull SLAP!

Angel was across the room as a blur, lifting Spike's wasted form up in his strong arms. He was whispering things into Spike's ear and before Xander knew what was happening, had carried Spike out of the room in long strides.

Xander felt as though he had been punched hard in the gut. He had known something bad had happened to Spike but... That last image of Spike's body hanging limp and empty, broken, was never going to leave his mind.

"Well then," Wesley's voice suddenly said. Xander turned his head to see him brushing his hands together and beginning to gather up his stacks of books. "I suppose there's four of us now."

.

.

\-- **2000** \--

 

Living near Angel should have been harder, but having Xander so close at hand made it just bearable enough. And at least he wasn't locked up in a white room with no real door being tortured as a government funded lab rat.

"What you thinking?"

He turned to look at Xander, feeling his lips want to twitch up in a smile by themselves. "Nothing, pet."

"Come on, don't lie," Xander said, tossing himself on the couch next to Spike. "You're thinking Newton hard. What's up?"

Spike shook his head. "I still can't believe Peaches is letting me stay here in 'his town.' God, but he's such a tosser."

"Tosser, right." Xander slumped back enough to prop his feet on the coffee table in front of him. "What exactly is a 'tosser' anyways? I've heard Wesley use it before when he didn't think I was listening."

"Tosser. Shirt-lifter. Ponce. Arse pirate."

"Oh. So basically you're insulting Brood-Boy by calling him gay? But... you don't consider yourself a... a ponce even though you've been in my ass?" Xander sounded honestly interested.

"Oy, I could crawl up your arse and I'd never be as much a silly bugger as Angelus has let himself become. Besides, I ain't no mincing fairy boy."

Xander giggled a little. "Yeah, he is kinda in it for the clothes, huh?"

"Makes me think of your cheerleader and the way she'd..."

"Shut up!"

Spike looked at the other man in surprise. All the laughter had drained out of Xander's face and his skin suddenly looked all stretched and tight, his mouth a harsh and discordant line. "What..."

Xander slapped him on the shoulder. "Shut up. Don't talk about Co-Cordy. You don't... you don't get to talk about her."

"But..."

"No!" Xander stood and started backing away. "She may not have been the best person in the world, but I really did love her and I cheated on her so many times with you that... that it makes me want to puke. She deserved way better and I... I just stepped on everything that she was like she was nothing. And when she died I didn't even... She didn't deserve to go out like that. She was better than that." Better than you. "So don't even talk about her when you're joking or even when you're serious because when it comes to Cordy, you're way beneath her."

...how can I love you? You are beneath me...

For a second there it felt like he had been struck hard in the chest, as though William had suddenly popped up and brought him crashing back down in the dirt with his useless self.

"But I..."

Xander shook his head. "No. I know you don't really understand why talking about her is so hard for me. I know you don't understand why even just hearing the sound of her name makes me feel so... dirty and wrong because of the things that I've done with you, but... No. If you had a soul, maybe then you'd understand, but you don't. So I don't want you to talk about her. Ever."

Spike just sat there with his mouth hanging open when Xander turned on his heel and left the room.

The worst thing was knowing that Xander was right. He didn't have a soul and he didn't understand.

But more than anything, he wanted to.

.

Spike disappeared two days later. He didn't return for close to three months.

.

.

\-- **2000** \--

 

It hurt a little, this kind of burning sting beneath his skin that made him want to scratch and claw at his flesh until his whole body ran red with blood. Not really painful, but he really couldn't ignore this bit of new.

He caught a tramp freighter back to the states and actually rode a Greyhound bus to keep from having to call someone (Angel) to wire him money. It took him longer than he expected to make it back to L.A. (home), but he was bound and determined to get there and prove once and for all that he wasn't only a monster, but a man.

The Hyperion was as he remembered it and he felt a little strange even admitting to himself that he was glad to see the old hotel again with the lights gleaming in the distance like a beacon calling him on, back to where he belonged.

Trying to seem like he didn't even care, he strolled in through the lobby doors. "Hello, hello! Daddy's home!"

"Spike!"

He barely had time to brace himself before his boy was slamming into him, wrapping mortal arms tight around him until he wouldn't have been able to breathe if he had really needed to. "Guess you missed me, eh pet?"

"You... You asshole!" Xander jerked away to thump him hard on the shoulder.

"Ow, watch 'er now," Spike said, rubbing his arm as though he'd actually been hurt. "And here I was thinking you'd missed me."

"I did miss you, you asshole, 'cause you left without saying anything. And your note, by the way, was completely lame." Xander crossed his arms and tapped his foot. "So where the hell were you?"

"I'm barely in the door and it's already with the questions," Spike said, but he was pleased. There was something so right about being back with Xander, back where he belonged. It actually made that new thing sting a little less.

"Come on, Spike, out with it. Where did you go off to so fast?"

Spike shrugged. "Had me a little errand to run, didn't I?"

"What kind of errand?"

Spike tried not to let it bother him that Xander sounded so suspicious, but that new thing made him want to feel every little thing to a deeper degree. It actually made him want to get--somewhat--in touch with his feelings, and God but that left him cold.

"You told me I couldn't understand, didn't you? Said I could never understand, being the way I was. So I changed, didn't I? Got me-self all gussied, yeah?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Xander asked, backing even further away. There was something in his eyes that might have been fear, and God but it hurt to see it there.

"I decided that you needed something more than some soulless monster trailing you around, right? So I got you a special gift, luv, a one of a kind, kind of thing."

"Again with the 'Huh?'"

Spike darted forward and pressed a kiss against Xander's cheek, wrapping his arms tight around that living warmth. It was weak and it was stupid, but he really didn't want to let go. He wanted to bury himself in the breathing, blood warm flesh of his boy. "I got me a soul for you, Xander. I took myself far and away and I put myself through a demon's hardest of tests so that I could win back my soul for you."

"What?" Xander's eyes were wide and Spike forced himself to ignore what might have been horror in them to focus instead on the thought that they might be happy someday in the future. He wanted to believe that he had made the right choice. He wanted to believe that having a soul and being that much closer to human was a good thing.

"For you, Xander, all for you. Because... because I love you, boy, love you enough to fight the world to a standstill and battle gods in your name. Love you enough to have a soul and the guilt that comes with one. For you, Xander. Only ever for you."

.

.

\-- **2001** \--

 

Things had been going too good, that was his only explanation for it. Things had been going too good in his life, so of course something would have to come along to screw things up.

Massive, brain destroying headaches. The doctors said he was going to die and all the pain meds he'd been popping like pharmaceutical candy were--barely--masking the symptoms. The pain and the damage were still happening, no matter how much he wished it otherwise.

Wrapped up in Spike's arms at night on the queen-sized bed they shared, he had to face the fact that he was going to die. And it wasn't going to be in a fight to the death with some demon. No, his own body was betraying him by being unable to hold the Visions. He was going to die because he was human.

"I'm going to miss you," he said.

"Don't say that, pet. Everything's going to be all right, yeah? You're going to get better, yeah?" Spike said, and they both tried to pretend that there weren't tears in his voice.

"Don't lie," Xander said, "not to me. This is the way our story is going to end. Brave Xan-man going down without a fight in the face of monster headaches. Kind of ironic, huh?"

"Yeah, pet, ironic," Spike said, holding him tighter, as though he was never going to let go.

"Promise me you're not going to kill a bunch of people once I'm gone," Xander said. "I mean, you've got the soul and all. I don't want you to go back to being the Big Bad just because I'm... I'm dead."

"Can't anyway, got the chip in me head," Spike said.

"We both know that won't stop you forever," Xander said. "Not if you really wanted to go on a fun-time kill-spree. You're smart enough to find a way around it."

"Don't worry," Spike said, his voice thick. "I won't kill a bunch of people. You deserved better than a murdering monster, yeah, and that's what you're going to get."

"That's right," Xander said. "I don't know when it happened--maybe it's the soul--but you've become my Spike, and I know it's kind of girly, but I love you,man. I really do."

"I love you," Spike whispered, his voice sounding like the Big Bad's, but the words indubitably softer.

Lying in those iron-cord arms, Xander knew that even if he died, everything was going to somehow be all right. And that was definitely of the good.

.

.

\-- **2001** \--

 

On the brink of death, he was suddenly yanked back and into a totally different kind of future than he had ever expected. He really didn't know what he was supposed to do next.

Spike was constantly touching him, assuring himself that Xander was alive. It should have been disturbing, but it was oddly comforting, an assurance that he was real.

He could still remember the mind-shattering agony jolting through his brain as he laid on the hospital bed. He had known with ridiculous absoluteness that he was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it. And in those last moments, he had accepted the fact that he was approaching the end and there wouldn't be another tomorrow for him. No more kisses from Spike, no more sunrises and sunsets, no more anything. He was an inch away from dead and there was no turning aside that kind of destiny.

Then there was a flash of light and Skip was there. A heavily armored, dangerous looking demon that was surprisingly friendly. He was a representative from the Powers, come to offer Xander another chance.

Xander had been led through a Vision of what his life would have been like if he had never been kissed by Doyle, if he had never been given the Visions. And though it was probably supposed to be all roses and light... It had actually been pretty bleak and depressing, at least from his point of view.

Stupid nine-to-five job, a dusted Spike, a mediocre living arrangement, and nothing that he really wanted to hold onto.

It hadn't been all that hard for him to decide to throw that normal life away and accept his own weird one back, even if it meant he was going to die. He made a difference in peoples' lives, and even if it killed him, saving people was what he did, who he was.

It really hadn't been all that hard for him to tell Skip to take his Vision-free, safe life and stick it. Even if it ended up killing him, he was taking back his normal life.

He had totally expected that he was going to die, so it was a monumental surprise to find himself alive at the end of it all. And a demon.

Skip had explained that he had already had some demon blood in him, which was why it had taken so long for the Visions to start eating away at his brain. It was also why he had been such a demon magnet for so long.

It seemed that he had been given out demon pheromones for years. Unisex demon pheromones.

The truly horrifying thing was realizing that most of the demons out there hadn't been wanting to just eat him. They had wanted to fuck him. Then they probably would have eaten him. It was very much not a relief to know that.

Now at least he wasn't going to die, even if he was two-thirds demon, which he still had a hard time wrapping his mind around.

At least Spike was still with him, loyal and true. If he took all that British Big Bad attitude into account.

Thinking Xander was going to die had let Spike be almost embarrassingly honest about his feelings. But once he was sure his boy was going to be all right, Spike had gone back to being his normal self. Which Xander was actually glad of, 'cause man here, yeah.

It was just a huge relief not to be dying, and Xander still wasn't over that. Which was why he was lounging around in bed when he probably should be downstairs answering phones or dealing with Angel's broody hair issues.

He just needed a few more days to get himself back into the groove. He had really thought he was going to die, and now he wasn't. And that was a great thing. Yeah.

 

***

 

Xander was being all weird and broody, which Spike was really not pleased about. He really didn't like his boy being so much like the Poof. It made him think that something had to be done... And he was the only one to do it.

Carefully carrying a tray up the stairs, Spike hoped that a wide array of his favorite snack foods would bring Xander out of his funk. He didn't like it when his boy was like that, so dark and depressed.

"Here you go, pet," he said, pushing the door open with his boot.

Xander glanced up at him with a wan smile of welcome. "Hey. You brought me snacky goodness."

"That's right, snacky goodness," Spike said with a roll of the eyes, setting the tray on the bedside table. "And I hope you appreciate how hard it was to get all this. Had to battle a Volok demon, I did."

"Yeah, they're all over the place in the grocery store," Xander said, stuffing an entire Twinkie in his mouth. "They really love the feminine hygiene aisle."

Spike snorted a laugh and set his black jean covered ass against the bed. "You're going to have to get up eventually, pet. It can't all be that bad."

Xander looked at him for a long moment, then sighed. "It's not. Not really. It's just... I was ready, you know? I said my goodbyes, I totally knew that it was the end, and I guess some part of me already gave up on that whole being alive thing. Then BAM! I'm demonified and it's all good. No more deadly Visions. And I'm just supposed to forget that I was totally ready to give it all up, to just turn my back on the whole living thing."

Xander drew in a moist sounding breath. "I'm sorry I can't just get over it. I'm sorry I'm not that strong."

Not really knowing what he was supposed to do, Spike tentatively laid a hand against Xander's shoulder. "You don't have to be," he said. "I just want you to come downstairs for meals. I want you to answer some bleedin' phones. I want you to get out of bed so I don't have to worry you've gone and rotted up here. That's all I want; to know you're still alive and you're not about to do something completely stupid, yeah?"

A faint smile quirked Xander's lips. "All right. Yeah."

"Good." Spike leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Xander's, just to let him know he was there. "Good."

And he was glad he hadn't said anything during Xander's minor breakdown about some of the things bubbling up in his mind. Like how he had wondered if what he felt for Xander was real, or just the result of his demon's lust for Xander's inhuman blood. Like how he had wondered if the reason he had gotten his soul back was because he truly loved Xander, or because he was a stupid git in the thrall of demon pheromones.

He was glad he hadn't said anything, because no matter what... He was happy to be here with Xander. Even if it wasn't real, or hadn't been in the beginning.

And he had always been about living in the moment.

.

.

 

\-- **2001** \--

 

Once again, life was going too good, that was the only explanation he could offer. Things were going too well.

Angel Investigations was doing good business, saving the day and raking in the cash. His relationship with Spike was going almost sickeningly well. He had a stable income, a demon boyfriend, three square meals a day, a comfortable bed to sleep in with someone to share it with. It was a good life, and that was the kicker, 'cause obviously he was not meant to be happy, not for long anyway.

He was sitting in the lobby amusing himself by watching Angel try to yet again master his computer when the Vision hit. A blinding, swirling flash of color and light and the wavering glints of blond and red hair. Screaming faces and a world shattered into a million pieces by the power to destroy universes.

When Xander blinked the real world back into focus, he was surprised to find tears on his face. "Buffy... Willow..."

Angel was just suddenly right there, so close his undead breath should have been chilling Xander's neck. "What's wrong with Buffy?"

Xander looked at the vampire. "We have to go to Sunnydale. They're going to die."

Even though there were probably about a million questions Angel could ask, he only nodded. "We'll leave at sunset. Call Spike, Wesley, and Gunn. There's no time to waste."

"On it," Xander said, trying to ignore the thrum of nerves.

He hadn't been back to Sunnydale since the disaster that was graduation. They had stopped the Mayor and saved the day... But the price they had paid was more than any of them had ever imagined and he still blamed himself for the weakness he had shown in that particular apocalypse.

If he had just been faster and braver and... Cordelia would have still been alive and so would countless others. If things had only gone differently, he would be living a different kind of life.

Forcing himself not to think of what should have been, he lifted the phone and began dialing Spike's cellphone. The sound of his lover's voice would sooth him, even if he was making the call so they could head straight into danger. He just wouldn't think about the fact that one of them might not walk away from the situation alive, or unalive as the case may be.

"Spike?"

 

***

 

Sunnyhell, a place he had definitely been glad to see the back of. Small Californian town awash in the golden sun that spelled a final death for him if it touched him. By daylight it looked like the perfect little community, but it was really a haven for vampires and demons and all the oogity-boogities that called the night theirs.

The blond Slayer called Sunnydale home, but even though she kicked monster ass with the best of them... She was fighting a war that she could never truly win. For every battle she came out on top of, there was yet another around the corner and it was only a matter of time before she was killed. Because no matter how special or important she thought she was, she was just another soldier in a war that had begun before she was born and would go on long after she was dust on the wind.

Stupid blond bint, told by her Watcher--who was trained by the Council to teach such lies--that she one girl in all the world. She had a chosen destiny to fulfill. She was special and unique in all the world, the carefully chosen and crafted weapon of the Powers That Be.

But he knew better. She wasn't special for any other reason than that she had been chosen to be the world's sacrifice. She was one of the humans handpicked by the Powers That Be to stand on the front lines and fight and die so all the other little blood-bags could pretend that the world was completely safe and monsters didn't really lurk under the bed just waiting for the chance to eat them alive.

He could almost have felt sorry for her, if she wasn't so self-righteous. She was so sure that she was the only one that could ever save anyone that she was constantly trying to push away those willing to help her. Which was how his Xander had ended up on the outside just when the Mayor decided to make his big scene. It was her fault that Xander carried all that guilt around for not being able to save the people he cared about. It was her fault Xander sometimes whimpered in his sleep so pitifully and woke with tears on his face.

Spike clenched his hands into fists on the steering wheel and didn't suggest that they just turn around and go home. Let the Slayer and the Witch face the next apocalypse alone. Let the world go to hell in a hand-basket to keep that look off Xander's face.

"We're almost there, pet," he said, not turning his head.

Xander grunted agreement. He was slumped in the front passenger seat of the jeep, his face pressed against the glass. There was just something so lost about him there that Spike really wanted to kill something.

Passing through the wonderful town of Sunnydale, following the lead Xander's latest Vision had suggested, they didn't go to the Slayer's house. The excitement had already started. There was no time for a nap, a little snack, and a shower. They were headed straight into a deadly situation and no matter what he might particularly want, they weren't going to turn back.

Then they were there. A construction site at night with a precariously built metal tower rising high into the air.

Climbing out of the jeep, Spike could already hear the sounds of fighting and it made his blood thrum a little in anticipation. He was going to get to put the hurt on someone--or something. "Stay with me, luv. Don't want anything to happen to you, yeah."

"Sure thing, Spikey," Xander mock-cooed, pulling out his favorite battle ax.

Spike sighed, but was actually amused. His boy took no guff from anyone... and gave it back tenfold when he had to. "Just stay with me."

"Always," Xander said.

.

.

\-- **2001** \--

 

Magic swirled all around her, so much that she should have been drunk on the power, if she wasn't so scared. Because they weren't facing just the usual Big Bad here, they were dealing with a goddess, and even though she had been largely stripped of her powers, Glory was still a force to be reckoned.

Somewhere in her mind, where optimism had always resided, there was suddenly the image of Cordelia's limp and broken body. Proof that no matter how hard they fought the good fight, sometimes there were unavoidable losses and no one was forever. Any one of them could die tonight, and it just might be her or Tara or Giles, and not just Buffy with her chosen destiny.

"We have to get to Dawn!" Buffy screamed, slashing her sword across the neck of one of Glory's minions. Her face was sharp and intent, her only focus on saving her sister.

"We'll try to hold them. You go," Willow said, sending another group of minions flying.

Buffy didn't even pause. She was already charging through the lines of crazy people and demon minions like a linebacker, shouldering them out of the way as she went, her sword stabbing and sweeping around her indiscriminately. She hit the stairs running and practically flung herself up them with superhuman speed.

"Stay behind me," Willow ordered Tara. "You're still not yourself yet."

Tara nodded, her eyes raccoon-rimmed with exhaustion. She had spent the last couple of months lost in a sea of crazy, and when she finally regained her sanity, it was to find herself in the midst of the latest apocalypse, probably about to die.

Willow was just glad to see her Tara again, even if it was only to say goodbye.

"This is about to go very badly," Giles said, swinging his ax.

"It's already gone very badly," Willow said. "And I hate to be the one to tell you this, but I don't think we're going to win. And I'm getting tired."

"Oh dear."

 

***

 

Dawn. Dawn. Dawn.

The only thought in her head was to get to Dawn. She had to save her sister no matter what.

Her breath came like billows and there was a rather liquidy, unpleasant burn to her muscles, but she didn't stop. Couldn't stop. She had a job to do here and no time to rest. Dawn was counting on her.

Leaping into the air, she grabbed onto the metal bars that made up the tower and began to climb. There was no time for stairs, just the leap, leap, grabbing bend of her arms and legs as she threw herself into the climb ahead, her palms slapping against the metal as she refused to allow her sweaty hands to slip.

Somewhere she could hear her little sister's sudden piercing scream, and it sent a flame through her heart.

Dawn. Dawn. Dawn.

Buffy Summers, the Slayer, almost flew up the shaky metal tower. The blessed sword strapped to her back should have been a comfort for the fight ahead, but she couldn't help the vague feeling that somewhere else, in some other--maybe better--universe, she would have had a different weapon more suited to the task at hand. But there was no time for little doubts now. She had things to do. A sister to save. A goddess to kill.

Dawn. Dawn. Dawn.

She was the Slayer. She refused to back down.

 

***

 

She was on the last dregs of her magic when they appeared, a miracle wielding swords and axes and tearing through the demons and madmen like there was no tomorrow. Which there probably wasn't going to be.

"Xander." It was stupid, they were in a deadly situation, but just seeing him made her heart lift. He had been gone out of her life since graduation, just disappeared without a letter or a word of goodbye. Yet here he was, come to save her from the monsters.

Decapitating a minion, he turned his head enough to flash her a smile. "Willow," he mouthed.

It sent a burst of energy through her and she drew the mass she'd been given and began hitting any kind of bad guy she could reach. She may not have had much magical energy left, but she still had physical energy on her side, for a little while at least.

"Where's Buffy?" he yelled, suddenly next to her.

Her arm burned from the swing-slam of the mace. "She's gone up the tower. She's trying to save Dawn."

"Who's Dawn?"

Willow opened her mouth to ask him how he could have possibly forgotten Buffy's little sister, the tiny girl that had had such a crush on him and had followed him around for months like a limpet, but Giles stepped in first. "Dawn is Buffy's sister. Glory is trying to use her to open a dimensional rift so she can return to her own dimension. But if she opens the rift... the walls of all the realities will meld into one and..."

Xander held up a hand to forestall him. "Bad things. Right. I've already Seen it. Buffy's not going to make it up there in time. We have to do something."

"Seen it? Seen what?" Willow asked.

"Never mind," Spike --SPIKE!--said, appearing at Xander's shoulder. "Can you get us up there, witch? Xan and me will do what we can."

"What..." She felt as though she had been hit hard in the head, that strange confused concussion feeling. "I'm almost out of magic and..."

"We can do it," Tara suddenly said, grabbing her hand. "If we work together we can... we can fling you up there. But the landing..."

"Don't worry about that, pet," Spike said. "We're tougher than we look, we are."

"Xander..." Willow said.

"No time, Wills." Xander slung an arm over Spike's shoulder. "We'll talk later. I promise. Now magic us up. We've got some distracting to do."

"Dawn is at the very top of the tower," Willow said.

"And she's not alone, look!" Giles pointed up.

Far up above, if she squinted her eyes hard, Willow could see the speck of a form that was Dawn tied to the end of the tower. There was another form moving towards her, and Willow had the feeling it wasn't going to do anything nice.

"Hurry, Willow!" Xander yelled. "She's going to die."

Willow tightened her hand on Tara's and drew every scrap of magic she could into herself. It felt like she was burning up from the inside, but there was no time for second thoughts. "GO!"

There was a rush of power and Xander and Spike were suddenly flung high up in the air, speeding toward the tower. And she collapsed to her knees, shaky and weak, more drained than she had ever been in her entire life.

 

***

 

"You can't beat me!" Glory yelled, swinging a fist at her head.

Buffy ducked away and let a fierce grin pull at her lips. "I don't have to beat you. I just have to keep you busy long enough that the time of your little 'event' passes you by. You bitch!" She swung her sword with all her might, but even as it made contact with Glory's side, the goddess barely even flinched.

"Is that all you got, little girl? 'Cause I'm about to show you what pain really is." Glory grabbed Buffy's arm with one well-manicured hand and squeezed.

Buffy shrieked with the sudden pain of crushed bone, but there was no time to give into the pain. She kicked out with one foot and knocked the goddess away. "Ow! That really hurt," she gasped, trying to sound like she wasn't in as much pain as she was, but couldn't quite pull it off.

Holding her broken arm close to her side, her sword lost somewhere far below, she did the only thing she could do. She threw herself forward, and with all the strength she had, shoved Glory hard in the chest.

And the goddess, her arms pinwheeling in what should have been a comical way if Buffy wasn't hurting so bad, fell off the tower to land on the ground with a shattering boom. Then, before she could rise up and attack again, she suddenly turned into Ben. A terrified looking, almost entirely human Ben.

But knowing there was a monster inside that normal face, a goddess bent on killing her little sister, Buffy didn't give herself room to doubt. She ripped a chunk of rebar off the tower, and sighting carefully down the length, held it out with her hand and let go.

Like a spear, falling straight and true, it plunged point first straight into Ben's chest. His mouth opened in a surprised "O" but there wasn't anything he could do but die. And she was the one that killed him.

Horror wanted to flood through her. She had never killed a human, had always held herself back from that one sin, but now...

Her fall into guilt and recriminations was halted by Dawn's piercing scream.

Buffy's head shot up and she saw Dawn on the platform high above. Not alone.

"Dawnie!" she screamed, guilt and everything else forgotten as she raced to reach the top of the tower, ignoring the pain of her broken arm as she jostled it in her hurry. There was no time for pain. Dawn needed her now.

 

***

 

For a moment, seeing him walk toward her, she thought everything was going to be all right. Then he pulled out the knife and Dawn knew that he wasn't here to help her.

"Doc! What..." her voice squeaked upwards and she pulled frantically at the ties binding her, but they were too strong.

"There are more followers of the beautiful Glorificus in this world than those pitiful minions of hers," he said. "Loyal followers that will see her safely home so she may regain her rightful place in the universe."

"Please! Please don't..." Tears streamed down her face and she knew that Buffy wasn't going to make it on time. No one was going to save her.

I'm only fourteen, she thought. I don't wanna die.

There was a platform rattling thud and suddenly two forms were in front of her. Dark hair and blond hair, two men that she had never expected to see here.

"Xander?"

He turned his head to flash her a brief smile. "Hey, Dawnie. How 'bout we get you down from here?"

"I don't think so," the Doc said. "You're interrupting a very important moment between Ms. Summers and myself. We are about to change the world as it is known."

"Too bad, freaky," Xander said, leaping toward Doc. "Spike, get Dawn."

The bleach blond that Dawn recognized as being Spike, the vampire that had tried to kill her sister a bunch of times, hurried over and began untying her bonds.

Her right arm fell to her side, free, when she saw something that made her eyes widen with horror. "Xander!"

Spike whirled around, leaving her behind, forgotten.

It seemed the Doc was stronger than he looked, because he had somehow managed to knock Xander off the platform, though the young man had caught himself on the edge by his fingers. But to keep him from pulling himself up, Doc was stepping on his fingers with his boots.

"Xander!" Spike yelled.

Seeing him coming, Doc ducked around Spike, who ignored him for the moment as he concentrated on Xander. Which gave Doc the time he needed to slip over to Dawn, who batted at him with her one free hand.

"Please, please don't. Oh no, please..." Dawn cried.

"Don't cry. It'll only hurt for a moment," Doc said. His knife flashed forward in three quick slashes that opened up Dawn's stomach. They weren't that deep, but... she screamed as though she was dying, feeling the badness start.

"Get your hands off my sister!"

Dawn slumped in relief as her sister came bounding forward, shoving Doc off the platform with barely a second look.

"Dawnie! Dawn, are you okay?"

"Buffy," Dawn cried, straining forward. She had never heard her sister sound so frantic.

"Oh Dawn." Buffy pressed a couple of quick kisses against her forehead, then fumbled her hand and legs free.

"Your... your arm," Dawn said, reaching out, but not quite touching the horribly mangled looking arm. It was obviously broken, but also kind of squished in what looked like the imprint of a hand.

"It's all right," Buffy said. "As long as you're okay, it's all right."

"Oh Buffy, I was so scared and..." Dawn pushed her sister a little to the side. "Xander! He fell."

She was glad to see that he was all right, that Spike had pulled him up. It seemed that everyone was going to live and nothing forever bad had happened and...

Metal vibrated beneath her feet and it was only her sister's arms around her that kept her from falling. "What's... what's happening?"

"I think... I think we're too late," Buffy said.

"What... what's that mean?"

"Oh Dawnie," Buffy whispered, focused on something behind her.

"Buffy?" Dawn turned slowly to see what her sister was looking at. Her eyes went wide and she felt her mouth fall a little open. "Shit."

A swirling vortex, the center of a rip through space and time. If she squinted, she could see twisting contorting things on the other side, and they all wanted to come through.

Suddenly there was a booming CRACK! and what looked like a lightning bolt whipped out of the tear toward where Spike was standing with Xander clutched close in his arms.

"Xander!" Buffy screamed.

Xander's head lifted just in time for them to see his eyes focus on them before he was swallowed whole by the portal that opened where he had stood. He was yanked out of Spike's arms as he was sucked backward through the dimensional tear.

Spike yelled something incoherent and leapt forward, his left hand grabbing Xander's right. His boots slid across the floor grating as he was pulled into the portal after him, his free hand clutching on air with nothing to grab onto.

They disappeared.

"Xander?" Dawn whispered, looking at her sister. "Buffy?"

Tears streamed down Buffy's cheeks. "Oh... Xander... Oh."

Dawn looked at the portals opening up all over the place. They were growing larger and more numerous, filling the sky with glimpses to other worlds. She actually saw a dragon come sweeping out of one of the portals, and strange skinless creatures came climbing out of another.

Awareness flooded through Dawn. She knew what had to happen. "Buffy... I'm sorry."

Buffy looked at her. "Dawn?"

"It's me, Buffy," she said. "I'm the only one that can do this. As long as the blood flows..."

Understanding filled Buffy's eyes. "No. Dawn," she held out her hand, "you see this?" She swiped her hand across a rough spot on the metal railing, cutting her flesh enough that blood welled to the surface. "This is Summer's blood. The same blood that flows through both of our veins."

Dawn was confused for a second, then she wasn't. "No, Buffy!"

Buffy smiled at her, a gentle expression filled with such love it ripped Dawn in two. "Remember Dawn, the hardest thing in this world is to live in it. Trust Willow, Tara, and Giles. They'll take care of you. They'll make sure you grow up into a good woman. I trust them to do that." A tear trickled down her cheek to fall off her chin. "I love you, Dawnie, and I'm so proud of you."

"No!" Dawn's voice broke on her tears, but there was nothing she could do. Buffy had already made her final decision.

Dawn could only scream out her sister's name as Buffy pulled away from her and began running with smooth grace down the length of the platform to leap off the end in a perfect swan dive. Even in dying, the Slayer was graceful.

 

***

 

Standing anchored to the Earth, Willow had only been able to watch the horror unfold on top of the tower.

She had screamed as her oldest friend in the world was swallowed by one of the portals. Then Buffy had leapt off the tower into the portal, her body convulsing before falling out the bottom, already limp before it hit the ground, broken.

"Oh God," Willow cried, her arms wrapped tight around Tara. Giles stood near them with his arms limp at his side, a desolated look on his face.

They stared at Buffy's body lying so still on the ground. Nobody said anything when Dawn came stumbling down the stairs, her hands clutched to the still bleeding cuts on her stomach.

"Buffy?" the girl whispered.

There was no answer.

.

.

\-- **2001** \--

 

Waking up on the hard ground was never a very good thing. Especially when there was a full body's weight pressing down on him.

"Ow, Spike, get off!" he yelled, recognizing that familiar mix of leather, hair gel, and cigarettes. "Dude, you're killing me here. Move!"

"Sh, pet, go back to sleep," Spike murmured, nuzzling his face in Xander's shoulder.

"Wake the hell up and get off," Xander ordered, wriggling out from under the vampire.

"Oh, ah," Spike said, sitting up to cradle his head in his hands. "What the bloody hell happened?"

"I think we were sucked into a portal," Xander said, "which is never good."

"Great." Spike climbed to his feet, automatically reaching out a hand toward Xander. "Wonder what hell dimension we've ass-ended up in this time."

"I hope it's not the one with all the cheese." Xander shuddered. "I still have nightmares about giant wheels of Gouda and stinky limberger crushing me into paste."

"You were pretty ripe too," Spike said. "Took weeks for the smell to fade. Made it a hardship to shag you."

"Didn't seem like it was such a hardship for you to me," Xander said. "It seemed like every time I turned around, you were humping my leg."

"Believe me, it was a hardship. I just didn't want you to feel bad about being so unappealing," Spike said.

Xander rolled his eyes. "You are such a huge dork."

He should have probably been freaked out about the whole being in another dimension thing, but working for Angel had pretty much turned it into the everyday. He had seen things old him had never even dreamed of and he had long since ceased to flinch at the crazy.

"So, what's the plan?" Spike asked.

Xander looked around and shrugged. They were in the middle of the woods somewhere and he didn't see any signs of civilization, which meant they could be roughing it Robinson Caruso-style for awhile. "We could pick a direction and start walking. Maybe we'll get lucky and hit asphalt."

Spike snorted. "Shyeah. That's a brilliant plan there, pet. Positively Einsteinian."

"You got another plan?" Xander asked.

Spike sighed. "No." He shook his hand insistently, reminding Xander it was there. "Let's go."

Xander slapped his palm in Spike's hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. "I hope there's no mutant slugs this time. Those things always freak me out."

"Baby."

"Hey!"

They went walking through the woods side by side, hoping to hit some kind of non-brain eating society.

.

They were walking about forty-five minutes when the woods suddenly disappeared and they found themselves facing a winding stretch of road.

"Looks very Earthlike to me," Xander said. "Flesh-eating bug people usually don't bother with the asphalt and the white and yellow lines."

"How do you know?" Spike asked. "Maybe they like a quick way to reach their next meal."

"But they totally don't know we're here," Xander said.

"At least we've left the trees behind and we're facing something a little more civilized like. Besides, it's easier for a flat out run on smooth ground than it is in the woods."

"And you've hunted down enough running humans to know that for sure," Xander said snarkily.

"Now what's that for?" Spike asked. "What did I do to you?"

"Nothing," Xander said, feeling a bit sorry. "I'm just a little worried that we're going to get our asses kicked by some unnamed baddies and no one is ever even going to know what happened to us."

"Don't you worry, pet," Spike said, slinging an arm over his shoulder. "I'll protect you from anything that wants to make you into lunch. You're my nummy treat, you are."

"Someday you're going to have to learn how to talk like normal people," Xander said.

Spike laughed. "Never gonna happen, luv. Not when I've got you around me talking like California just spewed you up backwards."

"But California totally just did," Xander said.

Spike opened his mouth to make yet another Britishly pithy comment when they were interrupted by the sound of a motor.

"Brain eating slug-creatures that drive cars," Xander said, "now that's something completely different."

"Come on," Spike said, pulling him out of the middle of the road.

"If I'm not mistaken... That's a Scenica coming at us," Xander said. "And as far as I know, humans are the only creatures to ever crack the car-driving code. We are totally on like a parallel Earth."

"Parallel Earth?" Spike raised an eyebrow at him.

"Come on, I've seen enough Star Trek and other sci-fi shows to know how this goes. We're on an alternate Earth somewhere... And all the people we know are probably reversed or something."

"Reversed? Like they all walk backwards?"

"No. Like the dark mirror people from Star Trek. All the people that were good on our Earth, are evil here, and vice versa."

"So the Master is going to be this world's version of Mother Theresa?" Spike snorted. "That's a laugh."

"He'd be really creepy in that wimple thing, but totally yeah." Xander shuddered at the thought of that nightmare face. He could still remember the horror of finding Buffy drowned in that pool of stagnant water, just floating there face-down and knowing that he was too late.

The car zoomed closer, and without hesitating a second, Spike stepped out in the middle of the road, holding his hand up. The Scenica screeched to a halt and a tousled head leaned out the window.

"Hey buddy, what the hell's your damned problem? Get the fuck out of the middle of the road?"

"Do you think you could find it in your most generous of hearts to help two strangers find their way back to civilization?" Spike asked, his accent coming across as a higher class of British than his usual version. He sounded a bit like a PBS special.

The guy just looked at him for a long moment, then snorted loudly. "Look, I don't want your stank asses in my new car. Find someone else to have a 'generous heart.' Now move it before I run you over." He leaned back in his car.

"Pet?" Spike asked questioningly.

Xander knew it was probably wrong, but the guy was a complete dickhead. "Do it."

Spike vamped out and leaped the distance to the driver's side door. With a swirl of his leather duster, he jerked the car door opened and yanked the guy out smoothly.

"Hey!" the guy yelled, then got a good look at Spike's currently freak-worthy face. "Holy shit, what the hell's the matter with your head?"

Spike growled at him, showing uneven, jagged teeth and flashing yellow eyes. The guy was scrambling up off the ground and running off into the woods a minute later.

Spike climbed into the driver's seat.

"Keep track of the registration papers," Xander said, slamming the passenger side door. "We don't wanna keep this piece of crap... And the guy'll probably want it back once he stops peeing himself. Scary Big Bad man."

Spike chuckled a little to himself, as always glad to put a bit of the terror in someone. He might not have been able to snap vertebra and kick human ass, but he could still scare the crap out of them.

"Come on, luv, let's find us some civilization."

"Cool."

.

.

\-- **2001** \--

 

It should have come as some kind of terrible shock to run into St. Louis on this "brand new world," but there it was in all it's M-state glory.

"That's kind of weird," Xander said.

Spike laughed a little. "After all the things I've seen, this is nothing. Besides, we'd already decided this was an alternate universe. Remember the reverso world speech? This is it."

"Yeah, but this is frickin' St. Louis. We're clear across the country from California and I'm getting a definite 'this is nothing like home' kind of vibe here."

"And how do you figure that, pet?" Spike asked.

Xander pointed out the windshield. "I don't know... it might have a little to do with that."

Spike took a glance, then cursed under his breath.

That was a large billboard featuring a beautiful woman pimping some kind of perfume called Delirious Rose Wild. She was wearing a sparkly, strappy blue gown a bit like the one Ariel from the Little Mermaid had worn at the end. But what was very un-Disneylike about her appearance was the pair of fangs that flashed out of her wide smile and the drowning pool dark blue of her eyes.

"That's totally a vampire chick," Xander said. "A pretty hot vampire chick, but a vampire chick nonetheless."

"Oi, don't you be looking at any hot vampire chicks," Spike said, sounding suddenly amused. "You're going to make me jealous."

"You're totally digging the vampire world idea, aren't you?" Xander shook his head. "God, Spike, sometimes..."

"Come on, pet," Spike flashed him a charming grin, "a world full of vampires and evil things... There's bound to be tons of evil ass for us to kick before Wesley finds a way to bring us home. It's fun, yeah?"

Xander sighed heavily, but he could feel a little smile tugging at his own lips. "Yeah. Fun, fun. It's like the hell-dimension vacation I never really wanted."

Spike laughed, the crazy bastard.

.

They dumped the car in a side street and asked for directions to the nearest public library. Xander had suggested they find out some history about this new world they were in and Spike was willing to go along with the idea since he didn't have a better one.

Sometimes Xander got a little worried when he realized he was the brains of their little operation.

"All right, so this is kind of interesting," he said.

"Wot now?" Spike leaned over his shoulder.

Xander scrolled down the Times webpage, reading the archived newspaper as fast as he could. "It looks like vampires and other things were only legalized about ten years or so ago. People always kind of knew they existed, but anyone could kill a vamp and there'd be no trouble about it. Now, you kill a vamp or a were and you go to prison."

"What if there's a baddie that needs to be put down?" Spike asked.

"Looks like they have state sanctioned executioners to do the job. And if things get really bad, there's always bounty hunters." Xander flicked across a few more articles, scanning as much as he could.

"Excuse me, but your time's up," the nice librarian lady said, standing off to one side of the computer screen.

Xander glanced at his watch. They'd been able to sign up for half an hour of computer time and it was all gone. He flashed her a bright smile even as he quickly closed the windows on the computers and wiped the history just in case. "Thanks."

Standing, he grabbed Spike by his leather-clad arm and tugged him toward the door. "We've gotta find some place to stay," he said, low-voiced. "At some point that sun is going to start coming up and I really don't want to see you turned into a shishkabob."

"But I thought you liked to shishkabob me?" Spike said, leering.

Xander rolled his eyes. "Come on, stupid, we don't have time to mess around. We're strangers in a strange land here, and I really don't think the cops are going to take our IDs as any good. Plus, our company credit cards are just worthless plastic and I've only got like thirty bucks to my name. How about you? You got any cash money?"

Spike dug through the pocket of his duster and pulled out a crumpled hundred dollar bill. "Just this, pet. I wasn't planning on doing any cross-dimensional hopping tonight, just some bloody violence."

Xander snatched the bill away and stuffed it in his pocket. "All right, at least we've got enough money to maybe get a hotel room for the day. But we're really going to have to figure out what we're going to do until Wesley makes with the mojo and gets us home." He raked a hand through his hair. "Man, I hate being poor."

Spike pushed the library door open, holding it for Xander to step through. "It'll be all right, pet. Worse comes to worse... you can always get a job as a stripper."

Xander snorted. "As if!"

.

.

\-- **2001** \--

 

Just another night at Guilty Pleasures. Writhing bodies, catcalling women, and the slow stink of drowning desire filling up his nose.

Jason loved his job, he really did. He was bathed in the adoration of his fans, it really wasn't that hard of work, and he made good money doing it. He had a lot of friends that worked with him, and he didn't have to worry that someone was going to drag him off the stage and have their way with him because security was fairly tight.

Strutting through the crowd, he ignored the hands that brushed against his sweat damp skin and the occasional ass-pinching fingers to make his way to the bar. "Hey man, can I get a bottled water?" he yelled.

The new bartender looked up at him and flashed a bright smile. "Sure, man, whatever you need." He bent down and pulled a bottle of water out of the cooler to toss to Jason. "Enjoy."

Jason twisted the lid off and took a deep gulp of the fresh coldness. "So, what's your name?"

The guy look surprised he had bothered to ask, then tapped the name tag pinned to his gold vest. "Xander."

"What, really? I mean, we all have our stage names so I thought..." Jason shook his head with a little laugh. "I don't know. You're cute so I thought you were trying to work your way to being on-stage with the rest of us."

Xander blushed and shook his head. "That's a definite no. I'm happy tending bar part time. Though my boyfriend, Spike... he's kind of getting off on being part of the show."

"Wait, that new guy with the funky name's your boyfriend?" Jason didn't know why, but he really couldn't believe it.

The bartender, Xander, was kind of really clean cut and Spike... well, he was a bleach-blond British punk rocker. They really didn't seem like the kind of guys that would hook up together. On first glance, Xander was just a little too vanilla and Spike was a little too gutter punk.

"I should really know better than to judge," he murmured.

"What was that?" Xander yelled over the pounding music and the screaming women.

Jason shook his head and snorted. "Nothing," he yelled, meeting the warm brown of Xander's eyes. "It's nice to meet you, man, I hope you like working here."

"It's all right and..." Xander paused when the music suddenly changed to a basso pulse filled with a kind of primal beat. A smile licked the corners of his lips and his eyes were pulled to the stage. "Spike..."

Jason turned in time to watch the new stripper stalk on stage.

The usually slicked back bleach blond hair had been left loose and showed itself in startling curls that gleamed under the stage lights. He was wearing painted on black leather pants and a long sleeved black top that highlighted his lean build. His eyes had been rimmed with black eyeliner and those cheekbones of his could have cut metal.

Spike writhed across the stage, his hips undulating as he bent and twisted, and when he pulled his shirt off... he was all corded muscle under his pale-pale skin. He moved like liquid sex and the crowd loved him, the women screaming and reaching out, all trying to draw him down to them. But his eyes... they passed over the crowd as though it was invisible, his eyes locked on someone at the bar, behind the bar. He smirked, his scarred eyebrow wiggling suggestively.

Jason glanced back at the bartender and couldn't help smiling. Xander was entranced, his brown eyes locked on Spike's every move, his moist, pouty lips trembling slightly, and his hands clenching a bar rag so tight in his fists that his knuckles were white.

"Never mind," Jason said. "I kind of get it now."

.

.

\-- **2003** \--

 

They'd pretty much given up on the idea of ever getting home and been forced to make new lives for themselves, though they were pretty much living under the radar.

Sometimes Xander wished he had the hacking skills of Willow so he could have made up legal identities for themselves, but he didn't, so they just had to make do. Fake social security cards, IDs bought in a dirty flophouse during their single trip to Vegas, and the fear of being found out at any moment.

He should have been miserable. He should have been wishing for home and his old life with every breath. He should have dreaded discovery at every turn and driven himself crazy with all the secrets and lies. But he was none of those things.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he was happy.

They had a studio apartment in the Blood District only a few blocks from where they worked at Guilty Pleasures. It really wasn't much when they first moved in, but they'd done a hell of a job turning it into something they could both live with. And there were only a few shouted arguments about Spike's insistence on old 70's punk rock posters and his habit of leaving dirty laundry and cigarette ash everywhere.

They had made a home for themselves in this new world and it was kind of nice not to have to go out fighting evil every night. It was nicer that no one had any preconceived notions about them so aside from a few bigots, there was no one to know why it was so weird for them to be lovers.

Sometimes Xander felt as though his old life was just a dream he'd once had and that they'd been here their whole lives.

Stretching on the blood red cotton sheets, Xander yawned hugely and finally forced himself out of bed. It was time for him to start his day, or rather, his night. He had to be at work in a couple of hours and he still needed to shower and shave and...

"Oy, pet, what do you think of this outfit for tonight?" the vampire asked, backing out of the closet with a bunch of leather straps hanging from his hands.

Xander smiled at Spike, fighting down the urge to laugh like an idiot. "I think you're going to get arrested if you ever let yourself think that that's an outfit."

Spike frowned thoughtfully, then tossed it back over his shoulder into the closet before swooping down on Xander for his "morning snog."

Xander half-heartedly tried to fight him off with protests about not having brushed his teeth yet, but he really wasn't trying that hard.

He knew that this kind of happiness never lasted, but he planned on holding onto it for as long as he could.

"Fuck me," he whispered.

"All right, luv. Whatever you want."

.

They were nearly late to work, but by the stupid grins on their faces no one accepted their story of car trouble. Especially since they didn't have a car.

Slipping on his gold vest and his short black apron, Xander brushed a hand through his hair and tried to put himself in a work state of mind.

"So, Xan-man, did you have a good night?"

Xander rolled his eyes at Jason, which only made the other man giggle harder. "Come on, I don't ask you about any of your wild nights. I mean, I've seen you come limping in after some pretty crazy weekends, and I'm just some guy in a monogamous relationship so..."

Jason's smile momentarily dipped, then came on stronger than ever. "Hey, some of those wild nights... not as fun as you might think. But you... you and Spike have that whole devoted love thing going for you. And you're always so cheerful, so he must be doing something right for you."

Xander shrugged. "I know it's probably not going to last forever, but it's been great so far."

Jason frowned a little. "What, you think he's going to break up with you or something?"

Xander shook his head. "Nah, Spike's always been what he calls 'love's bitch.' He's almost stupidly devoted, you know? But stuff... well, stuff has a way of happening and life always gets in the way of the happy, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess. But you shouldn't talk about bad things happening. You don't want to jinx yourself, you know?"

"I'll try not to," Xander said, but he had the nagging sense that their two years of happiness were about to be disrupted, and as much as he hated it, there was nothing he could do to stop the future from coming.

.

Nathaniel was in the middle of his set when it happened. A crushing wave of power that passed through the entire club and left the normal humans slumping unconscious in their seats.

There was a shatter of glass and Xander blinked at the suddenness of liquor soaking into his pant legs. He swayed a little, but didn't fall. It had felt for a second as though he was about to be pulled under, but it didn't last past the point of him dropping the bottle.

The doors to the club slammed open in a hurricane force wind and every light in the place flickered then went out. Someone screamed. Someone always screamed.

Without really thinking about it, Xander backed up into a corner, kind of tucking himself half behind a shelf of bottles. He could see out, but unless someone knew right where he was, he could be just another shadow.

There was a sudden glowing blue light in the doorway and a group of men and women stalked in as though they owned the place, practically pulsating with a dark and terrible power.

There was a low grinding sound, and the generators finally kicked in. The lights came back on.

The bad guys--'cause what else could they be?--looked like they'd stepped out of a Victorian portrait, all dark velvet and curling lace. Two men and two women and just looking at them made Xander's mouth go dry and his heart thud hard in his chest.

"Oh shit..."

"All right, people, this is how it's going to work. You're going to be quiet and well behaved and you're going to live out the rest of the night. Push us and..." Angelus reached out and grabbed the limp body of a woman out of her chair and cradled her against his chest. He stroked her sleeping face once, then without a single change of expression and a loud CRACK! broke her neck before dropping her to the floor. "Any questions?"

"What... what do you want?" Willie asked, stepping forward. He knew he wasn't strong enough to take on the monsters that had just walked in the door, but his responsibilities had him asking the questions.

Angelus smiled. "That's easy. I want you to call your Master and his whore and have them come here. By the Order of Aurelius, the actions of Jean-Claude, Master of St. Louis are to be called into question."

Drusilla giggled suddenly, leaning her forehead against Darla's shoulders. "Look, Grandmummy, they're all so scared."

"Yes they are, sweetling, and rightfully so," Darla said. "Why don't you take Dru here and find her someplace nice to rest... William?"

"Certainly." And despite the cultured tones in that voice, despite the hair being its natural golden blond, despite the layers of cloth draping him and the unfamiliar coldness about him, there was no way Xander could mistake that figure for anyone else than Spike.

.

.

\-- **2003** \--

 

Staying in the corner may have seemed like a totally cowardly thing to some, but it seemed like a smart idea to Xander, at least until he figured out what was going on here.

He was in another universe. He really wasn't expecting to come across Angelus, Darla, Drusilla, and certainly not another Spike. And that whole "Order of Aurelius" thing was really freaking him out, 'cause it kind of hinted at the fact that the Master was still running around terrorizing the populace.

Buffy had died for the privilege of grinding the guy's bones into powder. Xander really didn't want another look at his butt-ugly face.

Angelus had Darla and William herding the conscious vampires and lycanthropes into the middle of the room while Drusilla lounged like a queen on a couch William had dredged up from somewhere, probably from Willie's office.

"Ah, ah, ah, what's this I smell?" Darla cooed, her high heeled boots clicking across the floor. There was a sudden blur of motion, then she was RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM.

He couldn't help his unmanly yelp as she grabbed him by the front of his vest and by his arm and FLUNG him over the bar to land on the floor next to Nathaniel. There was a shatter of glass as a bottle the toe of his shoe had clipped hit the ground.

Xander had tried to curl at the last minute, but he was already in the air by the time he realized what was happening. He hit the ground with a bone jarring thud and moaned a little to try and relieve some of the pain.

He sat up, cradling his right arm to his chest. He'd felt something POP, but it didn't seem as though anything was broken. The vibrating pain kind of hinted at a possible sprain.

"You all right?" Nathaniel whispered, pulling him up to a sitting position.

Xander jerked his head in a nod. "Yeah. I'll... I'll be all right." They were all probably going to die, but he was going to be all right. Sure.

Darla clicked her way across the floor to sneer down at him. "You thought you were going to hide? Reeking of alcohol, and you really thought you were going to get away?" She leaned down, her hand clamping around his throat as she lifted him in the air.

"Urk!" he said intelligently, his shoes squeaking against the floor as he tried to find some kind of traction so he could get away. "S'ike! 'Elp!"

"Oy, what the hell do you think you're doing to my boy?"

Darla whirled around toward where Spike had stepped around the curtain and appeared on stage. "What the hell?" She jerked a look at William, who was staring at his doppleganger with even more surprise.

Xander was so relieved to see Spike he could have wet himself, but Darla was still holding him up by his neck so he knew they weren't completely out of the woods yet.

Spike was still in his street clothes, which consisted of black jeans, a black tee shirt, his favored Doc Martens, and his black leather duster. His hair was slicked back and he had the sneering "gonna kick your ass for fun and profit" expression he'd patented in his Big Bad days. Xander really didn't know how seriously they would have taken him in a silver thong and body glitter, so he was kind of glad Spike hadn't had a chance to change into his work clothes yet.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Angelus purred. "He looks like a twin of William, doesn't he? But he doesn't smell like a vampire, yet..." his nostrils flared as he drew in a deep breath, "he doesn't smell completely human either."

"I'm nothing your like has ever come across before," Spike sneered, "so you better let go of my boy before it gets messy in here."

Taking advantage of the momentary surprise going on, Xander brought his legs up and kicked off against Darla's stomach, jerking himself out of her grasp. It hurt like a sonuvabitch, and he probably lost a bit of skin, but it was worth it to get out of her psycho-hands.

He hit the floor hard on his butt and scrambled to his feet to scuttle his way behind Spike's back.

"You all right, pet?" Spike asked, not turning his head.

Xander jerked a nod. "Yeah, I'm good." It was kind of maybe a lie, but he was alive and that had to mean something. Besides, he had to keep it cool so Spike didn't totally nut out, which was never of the fun.

"Who are you?" William demanded, stepping forward. He seemed to really not like the idea of having a twin.

Spike sneered at him. "You look like a bloody tosser. Did you get caught in the 19th century or something? The cravat went the way of pantaloons and Hammer pants, yet there you are still wearing one. I am ashamed just looking at you. Oh what a world we live in that has such badly dressed people in it..."

Xander nudged Spike's side. "Come on now, cut him a bit of slack. You've seen how the other vamps are dressing... he got off pretty lightly. At least he's not covered in lace and skintight velvet."

William scowled at them. "Don't make fun of me! Who are you? Where did you come from?"

Spike smirked and just seeing it made Xander wince. It was Spike's most annoying expression, the one he used right before he went out of his way to make someone's life as miserable as possible. It was his favorite expression when dealing with Angel.

"They say that every person has a twin somewhere in the world. I guess you must be my good twin," Spike said.

"I thought he was supposed to be your EVIL twin?" Xander asked, his voice surprisingly mellow considering how fast his heart was pounding.

Spike turned his head to give Xander a LOOK. "I'm still the Big Bad, luv. Just because you're a good guy and I try not to make you unhappy, that doesn't mean I'm not still me where it counts."

"Yeah, yeah, you're the Big Bad." Xander rolled his eyes a little. Sometimes Spike could be such a child, especially when anyone called into question his status as an evil doer, never mind that he'd been working on the side of light for years. He absolutely refused to let go of the fact that he used to be part of the Scourge of Europe.

"Oh, pet, you cut me to the quick," Spike clutched his chest melodramatically.

Xander couldn't help laughing a little.

No matter how bad things got, as long as he had Spike with him, everything would be all right.

 

***

 

His boy had been looking a little pale and shaky, but he was pulling himself back together, which made Spike feel a bit better.

There was nothing like coming across your doppelganger to dispel the myth of being a unique and singularly original snowflake. Especially when that doppelganger was like a step backwards in time to a place in memory he hadn't wanted to see in a long time and could have well done without.

Angelus--as though there was any question who the tosser could be--cruised around him in a curious circle, his eyes trying to eat Spike alive. "And who exactly do you think you are?" he asked.

Spike shrugged his shoulders, pulling Xander closer against his side. "I don't think I'm anyone. I know who I am. And who might you be, mate? Fancy yourself some kind of hardass, yeah? Think you're gonna bring the world down to your feet and walk all over it, yeah?”

Angelus sneered. "You look like our William, but you definitely need a few lessons in manners."

"I have manners... they just don't happen to be good ones for you."

It was kind of strange looking at someone that looked like Angel, sounded like Angel, and even smelled like the man... but was definitely on a whole 'nother level. And not necessarily a better one.

Say what you will about his relationship with Angel, Spike had finally come to appreciate his grandsire for the broody, tormented soul, sobby wanker that he was. And this new Angelus? Definitely a second stringer by the looks of him.

"You're pretty mouthy, aren't you? Maybe I should teach you a little lesson," Angelus growled, though it kind of lost a bit of impact since his kind of vampire didn't have another face to change to.

"I'd like to see you try," Spike snorted. "There's like a dozen ways to kill your kind, so I really don't think you wanna try taking me on. I used to be a Champion for Good, you know. A little on vacation now, but I've still got all my skills intact."

"And what about your boy, there? You really think you can keep him safe?"

Spike couldn't help the growl that thundered up his throat or the way his eyes flashed yellow. "Don't you dare threaten Xander."

"Well, well, well. You're playing at being human, but you're not, are you?" Angelus was amused, never a good sign. "So what exactly are you?"

Spike put on his most shit-eatingest grin possible. "I'm one handsome bugger, which is more than I can say about you."

Angelus snarled, the brown of his eyes filling up the white until that was all there was. He radiated power and rage. "You've got a nasty tongue on you, boy. I think I'm going to enjoy ripping it out."

It was just his luck to have ended up on a world where Angelus had even more of an anger management problem than he had ever had before. Spike just hoped that his boy wasn't going to end up maimed in the brawl he could already see brewing.

He felt the fingers Xander had curled in the fabric of his jacket release and the younger man step back a little. Not enough to be out of his protection, but enough that Spike would have room to move fast if he needed.

"You really don't want to be messing with us, here," Spike said, running a hand through his hair. "We've been living a fairly quiet life recently, but that don't mean we'd back away from a spot of trouble when it presents itself."

Angelus ran his eyes up and down Spike's body, sneering all the while. "You look like a whore, boy. I don't think you have much you can really do."

Spike snarled a little. "Please. I'm much more the Big Bad here than that ponce you got over there," he nodded toward William, who growled before Dru pulled him back to sit next to her on the couch, absently stroking his head like a dog. Her eyes had that faraway glint they got when she wasn't quite seeing the here-and-now, but the later-and-not-yet. Though just looking at her and the way she was acting, Spike could tell she wasn't nearly as broken as his Dark Princess had been.

"And why do you look like our dear William?" Angelus demanded.

Spike scoffed. "It's not me that looks like that tosser," he said. "He obviously looks like me."

He heard Xander laugh a little behind him, and it sent a spark through his heart. Even though things were looking a little grim, it was good to know that his boy could still see the upside in any situation. Xander's spirit was as yet unbroken. And he planned on seeing that it remained that way.

 

***

 

Xander stuck close to Spike, waiting to find out how bad things were going to get. And to be honest, things were never that good when Angelus and the gang made an appearance.

He turned his head a little and saw that Nathaniel was wearing that weird almost-constipated face he got whenever he was talking to someone through his Marks. The other man was still nearly naked, his body streaked with glitter and sweat and there was a dark smear across one cheekbone. Otherwise he was pretty much all right, his lycanthropy having protected him from any broken bones even though he'd been tossed off the stage. Plus Jason was keeping by his side, offering whatever protection that was worth.

Xander kind of considered the two men his friends, but he had to admit that they were pretty low on the totem power wise for this world. They could take out normal humans without breaking a sweat, but any other weres or vampires would have them for breakfast.

He'd talked to Nathaniel a bunch of times about his past, and he could only be glad that Nathaniel had found a protector before he ended up dead, even if that protector happened to be the Executioner. Or as Xander had nicknamed her in his head, "Coffin bait." And never mind that was totally pot calling kettle black, since Spike was on a whole other level to Jean-Claude.

Xander shook his head, focusing back on the situation at hand. He hadn't been in a good life-or-death situation in awhile, and it was obvious that his brain was trying to cope with mind numbing terror by sending him off in the clouds. But he needed to focus on the here and now if he wanted to get out of the situation alive.

"What are we going to do?" he whispered close to Spike's ear, his lips barely moving.

"Kick arse and take names," Spike quipped back.

Xander couldn't help laughing a little. Spike was still Spike no matter what world they were on.

So it was kind of a relief when the door was kicked down by an angry Executioner, because he really didn't want to find out how Spike's brand of vampire faired up against this world's vampire in a four-on-one free for all when neither of them had any weapons.

"We'll talk later," Angelus growled at Spike, turning to face the "real" threat.

Xander was curious himself and turned to look. Sure he'd been working at Guilty Pleasures, but as a "human/non-combatant" he had never really seen Anita Blake in full on bad ass mode. She was more like a figure in passing, occasionally walking through the club, but never staying very long. She always acted as though she was too good for strip clubs and the people in them.

Looking at her, posing with her tough girl expression on, he was reminded a bit of Buffy in Slayer-mode. Though when she started with the bitch-voice and brought out her powers and whatever else she had going for her, he couldn't help thinking that Buffy would have wiped the floor with her. Sure, she was tough and all, but she let the little things get in the way of the mission. And when the situation got too serious, she would try to fuck her way out of trouble, which had never been his first impulse.

He'd heard rumors of the ardeur and what it did, the power it gave her and the control it took away, but he really didn't care to understand what was going on. 'Cause seriously, whenever he was in a life-or-death situation, sex was the last thing on his mind. The first thing he always thought of was keeping Spike close and trying to get a hold of a weapon.

Which is why the moment Anita Blake and Jean-Claude appeared with Richard, Asher, Damian, and about half a dozen other powerful vamps and lycanthropes as backup. Xander grabbed the back of Spike's duster and dragged him off to the side toward where their bags were stored.

'Cause if there was one thing life in Sunnydale had taught him growing up, it was always to be prepared. Which is why he had a couple of silver daggers sewed into the lining of his duffel bag, a water bottle filled with Holy water tucked in next to his towel, and some sharp stakes sewed into the stiff lining of his bag's shoulder strap.

Weapons were always of the good. It was practically the second rule of slaying, right after "Don't die."


	2. TWO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this story, so I'll be working on it this year as part of my year resolution. Poke me if I get too slacky. January was crazy and I have one novel deadlined for February, but after that it's all a self-imposed schedule. LBSBSS will be updated all through March. Thank you for your patience.

\-- **2003** \--

 

It was nice to know that years of living in this new world hadn't taken the edge off his boy. At least with a dagger in his hand he felt a little less naked, and he was glad that Xander was handling some more serious firepower if it came down to it.

He'd been thrilled when he'd discovered how vulnerable vampires in this world were to holy water and crosses. At the very least Xander would be able to protect himself, and maybe he'd get the chance to unpretty-up Angelus' face.

That was the kind of thing he would walk through Hell to do. Make that git just that much less pretty and annoying. Because even though Xander had never owned up to it, Spike knew the boy had a bit of a crush on Angel that had never gone away. The snark was just a cover for a raging case of boy-love.

And there was no way in any world that Spike was going to let *his* Xander be won over by that poof.

"What is going on here?" Jean-Claude demanded, his power rushing through the room.

"We were just having a bit of a party," Angelus said. "We sent you all kinds of invitations." He flicked his fingers toward the dead woman on the floor. "We were getting worried when you didn't show up on time." He strolled over to the bar, leaning against the counter with careless grace, a nearly boyish grin shaping his lips.

Spike kept himself in front of Xander. He didn't trust that grin, didn't trust anything that he saw in this alternate version of his grandsire.

The vampires of this dimension might or might not have souls, but Spike recognized someone twisted like Angelus in any reality. And there was no way he would let that monster near Xander, professional demon magnet.

.

"Keep close to me," he whispered out of the side of his mouth.

"No doy," Xander replied. Spike had to hide a smile. It was good that his boy wasn't panicking or falling apart. It was proof that those slaying instincts never completely went away.

"Why are you on my lands uninvited?" There was a dangerous bite to Jean-Claude's French accent.

Angelus gave an amused smile, his dark eyes gleaming viciously. "Since when do I need an invitation to visit with an old friend?"

Spike recognized that particular brand of Angelus douchery and it never turned out well. Angelus had a real gift for pushing people's buttons and sending them into a murderous rage. He just never seemed to know when he was supposed to use it or not.

Angelus was not the vamp to be sent in for reasons of diplomacy. He was the one used to sow discord amongst the natives before the big attack took place. So his being here in St. Louis was not a good sign at all.

Jean-Claude seemed to think Angelus was up to no good as well, if the utter stillness of his face meant anything. "I might have welcomed your visit, Liam, if you had sent word before your arrival. But to attack one of my properties, that shows a lack of respect."

A sneer shaped Angelus' expression. "You always were one that enjoyed *diplomacy* over substance." He shook his head. "It shows weakness on your part."

Spike barely kept from wincing. Angelus had always prided himself on his communication skills and had thought of himself as a misunderstood artist, the world failing to see his genius. Really, he'd always been a thug, and time had never changed that. He'd also been a brutal rapist.

Angelus gestured to Drusilla and like some horror movie magic trick, she dropped whatever bit of glamour she'd been holding.

The smell came first--blood, tears, and terror--then came the child herself. A beautiful blond girl with shattered green eyes and a mass of bruises around the orbit of her right eye. There might even have been a fractured cheekbone in there.

"Buffy," Xander whispered. Spike had to catch his arm to keep him from barreling across the room to where she huddled on the floor at Angelus' feet. She shivered in a thin white shift dress that didn't bother to hide the bloodstains or the hand shaped bruises that climbed up her arms and legs.

It wasn't Buffy, but it was easy to see how the girl could have been mistaken for a teenaged Buffy Summers. She was tiny and blond and exactly Angelus' type.

Spike had always thought the PTB had a sense of humor to choose Buffy as the Champion they sent to deal with Angel. Dark haired Drusilla had been the exception to Angelus' taste in plaything, while Buffy had more fit the mold Angelus had set after he tortured and killed his pretty blond sister.

To Angel, the PTBs had gifted a Slayer that embodied all the girls he'd raped and murdered before. She was strong enough to take him on, but weak enough to fall to his charms, a temptation too strong for him to resist. He hadn't even tried.

"Liam, what are you doing? The girl is most obviously underage. You have savaged my club. What madness is this?" Jean-Claude was attempting to reason with Angelus; Spike could have told him it would never work. "The police will come for you."

Angelus laughed, a cruel sound. "Look at you, bowing down to mortal laws. Do you have any idea how weak it makes you?"

"Non," Jean-Claude disagreed, "it has made me stronger. The laws protect the humans, but we are protected as well. We may own property and run businesses and we do not have to fear that we will be burned out of our homes with no recourse. What does your savagery win you? Nothing."

Angelus made a moue with his lips. He pressed his hand against his chest. "You wound me, though I think your words have touched me deep down inside." He smirked. "Maybe we shall stay in this city of yours and enjoy the benefits of human society. They will give us rights and laws to follow, and I will give them beautiful art. Like this one when I finish it." He nudged the human girl with the toe of his boot.

"Oh, hell no," Xander whispered fiercely. Spike held on to Xander's wrist, refusing to let go until he could be sure Xander wasn't about to try and go one man army on Angelus. It wouldn't end well.


	3. THREE

\--2003--

 

Staying out of the way was one of those things Xander had always battled with. Even when he didn't want to be involved with a given situation, some part of him urged him to play the hero. So it was good that Spike was keeping him back when things started going crazy, because otherwise he'd have ended up dead.

These guys were not messing around, and when they brought out the metaphysical big guns, it usually ended with rooms painted with blood and gore. It seemed to be the natural evolution of the vampires of this world: Get Turned. Consolidate power. Kill a bunch of people. Become some power mad supervillain surrounded by fawning flunkies while making everyone around them miserable. Die, usually at the hands of one of their victims.

The fact that the humans on this world were walking around with forks stuck in them begging to be eaten made things that much worse to Xander's way of thinking.

With no warning, Anita Blake brought out her gun and started shooting--BAM! BAM! BAM!--until the air was thick with gunsmoke and Xander's ears were ringing. He kept behind Spike, knowing that as a vampire Spike would be fine if he ended up shot in the body, while Xander would die in a pool of his own blood.

"Discretion is the better part of valor," he panted, grabbing the back of Spike's duster and pulling him toward a shadowy corner and the heavy duty table he'd noted months before when it was added to the decor. It was thick enough that it would slow down a bullet, especially one that had gone through the body of a bad guy.

He wanted to run out there and rescue the girl that looked like a young Buffy, but there was no point in starting a hopeless fight. Getting Spike and himself killed wouldn't help the girl.

When the shooting stopped... Angelus laughed and clapped his hands. "Oh Jean-Claude, I like this one," he called in that tone of voice that just screamed "Asshole!" to anyone with ears. "She's much better than Asher's Julianna. I think she would actually keep trying to kill me until she died."

Jean-Claude's blond second-in-command growled, but stayed in position. He knew when to ignore an insult. Xander could respect that.

Anita Blake couldn't resist opening her mouth. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" she demanded angrily. "You come into our territory with an underage girl and kill people? I'm a US Marshall. Do you even know what that fucking means?"

Xander had heard she was tied to Jean-Claude's emotions in some weird vampy mind meld, so he figured she was being flooded with all of Jean-Claude's insulted anger. But while Jean-Claude was maintaining stony control and playing politics, she was upping the aggression in the room.

He could have told her that was a bad tactic to use with Angelus.

The cruel amusement didn't leave Angelus' face, but the air in the room felt heavy. Even in their unnatural slumber, the humans stirred and moaned, their minds crafting nightmares to match the oppressive feelings Angelus projected. Xander couldn't help a few shivers of his own, but just knowing where that horrible feeling was coming from let him push some of it away.

Spike's hand on Xander's wounded arm gripped hard enough to hurt, but Xander didn't try to pry him off. He knew Spike needed some kind of anchor when all the metaphysical weirdness happened.

There was something about this world that affected Spike's demon strangely. When the metaphysical power was being slung around to the point that Xander could feel it... Spike would already have lost it. Not in a happy feels kind of way either.

Xander got a creeping tingle under his skin that sometimes gave him embarrassing erections at inopportune moments. Spike went all "demon kill kill" psychotic rage-orgy where he enjoyed the idea of drawing blood a little too much and never mind the soul he'd fought so hard to get.

Xander had promised to help Spike keep his cool. From the tight grip Spike had on his arm and the heavy press of responding POWER flooding the room from Anita Blake, he had a feeling that it would be harder to manage than usual.

With just the bit of demon blood flowing through his veins, Xander was able to control the power high when someone unleashed the meta-bullshit. Spike went off like he'd been injected with pure methamphetamines.

"You all right?" Xander whispered concernedly. He didn't think he was up to holding Spike back if he went off the rails.

"I'm managing, pet. It's just a little..." Spike ground his teeth and pressed his free hand against his crotch. "Feels a bit like sexy lightning, yeah."

"I'm sure." Xander kept his tone normal, not letting any of his panic show. And he was definitely panicking. "You maintain our cover. We may have blown it a little, but we got to play at being normal Happy Meals."

"We'll be positively Stepford," Spike gritted. His eyes were flaring from human to glaring vamp yellow. It wasn't a good sign, though Xander was relieved he was still able to speak.

He followed Spike's eye-line and saw the Executioner in her rather impractical Fuck Me boots at the end of it. She was showing a lot of skin for someone that expected to be taken seriously. Someone with a sharp enough blade could slice her femoral artery before she knew what happened. She was like an open invitation to any predator and it was only raw power that had protected her so far.

"What is it with you and Slayers?" he wondered.

Even vibrating with destructive energy, Spike still managed to sound amused. "Sorry about that. There's just something about them. An extra kick in the blood."

"Except this chick isn't a Slayer," Xander said. "She's a necromancer. She could probably dust you from across the room"

"Ah, but I ain't really dead, am I? To be literal, I'm a host to a demon. I don't know what all her mojo can really do to me, but I ain't feeling nervous" There was a hint of a growl to Spike's voice as he added, "Probably makes her blood taste delicious."

Xander rolled his eyes. This was all he needed: Spike going all Big Bad and draining the Master of the City's girlfriend. The only thing worse was if he wanted to Turn her.

"Think she'd take orders better, pet, if she were a fledge?"

Xander bit back his groan. It was like he carried the Hellmouth luck with him.


	4. FOUR

\--2003--

.

It was probably pathetic, but they stood aside and watched as events took place in front of them. Some part of Xander urged him to get involved, but the logical portions of his brain kept him where he was. He was too vulnerable to bullets and werewolf teeth, and there was no way he was letting Spike end up dusted.

He kept his eyes open as the action was happening, wincing when he saw Drusilla get nailed in the throat with a bullet. It didn't *quite* take her head off, but she collapsed with a gurgle and William hauled her out of the way to give her a chance to heal. Xander didn't know if he would have rathered that she be killed or not.

Even knowing they were completely evil and would happily see him dead, there was something nice about having some familiar faces around. It made him feel a bit closer to home, which was probably a mistake on his part. Hesitation was the kind of thing he didn't want to show, not with these vamps that could move faster than his eye could follow and had no problem flying around like some kind of sinister deranged monkeys.

He nudged Spike with his elbow when he realized that yes, there was a break in the action happening around the blond girl. "You grab her, I'll cover you."

Spike raised his scarred brow. "Do you have something that reaches the distance?"

"No, but I've got some holy water and I've got no problem supersoaking some jerk vamps." Xander patted his bag, not willing to bring the bottle out unless it was needed. Vampires in this dimension took Holy Water pretty seriously considering how bad they were about healing the damage. They got the equivalent of acid burns that didn't stop hurting for decades.

There'd been a few times when Spike had been splashed with some holy water, and though it had burned him like acid and he'd cursed up a storm, given enough time and healthy blood he was able to heal himself. The vampires from this dimension were unable to heal and would end up spending the rest of their eternal lives covered in scars and miserable.

Sneaking a quick glance toward Asher, Xander could understand why the vamps weren't so keen about the liquid holy. He didn't know how he'd feel about ending up like Freddy Krueger just because he couldn't duck and dodge fast enough.

"Quick snatch and grab," Xander ordered.

Spike gave him a quick clap on the shoulder before dashing around the table and darted forward to grab the girl under the arms and scooped her up. She shrieked in surprise--still alive enough to want to keep on breathing--but Spike just carried her fast back to where Xander waited.

Spotting the sluggish seep of blood at her neck, Xander pulled a small white towel out of his bag and held it to the bite mark. "We're not going to hurt you. We're trying to help."

She cringed away from him, her wide eyes begging him not to hurt her any more. It made him sick to his stomach to see what had been done to her. She was just a kid.

"It's all right. I won't hurt you," he crooned. He pressed the towel against the wound to stop the bleeding, but otherwise didn't try to touch her. She was traumatized enough already.

She said something in French and he felt his heart sink. Looked like the vamps were bringing their own snacky goodies with them, though how they'd gotten her across international borders probably entailed some of their freaky eye mojo.

The things vamps could pull off in this world made him nervous. They had an unfair level of advantages going for them and it made him desperate for the days of "see vamp, stake vamp." It had all been so much easier.

"It's going to be all right," Xander told the girl.

She gave him a definite questioning his sanity look and he sighed. "Yeah, I know it sounds far fetched, but we're going to try our best to get you out of here alive and unTurned. Right Spike?"

Spike gave him a raised eyebrow, but managed to give the girl a smile that was only a bit smarmy. He said something in fast French that had her relaxing slightly, some of the animal terror leaving her face. She said something back and they were having a conversation he couldn't understand.

Xander sighed. He didn't know what Spike was saying, but he appreciated that the girl wasn't panicking. It allayed his fear that she was going to run off and get herself killed anyway.

Though he was curious about how she had ended up with the monsters. Was she a victim scooped off the street? Or was she just someone that hadn't recognized danger until it was sucking her blood out and dragging her onto one of the cruise ships the older vampires seemed to prefer for long voyages.

"Girl's name is Penelope. She met Angelus on a cruise with her parents. She was smuggled off the ship in a sea chest when they reached port in Seattle. She's been Feeding them for a week." Spike dug through his jacket pocket and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He lit one and took a big drag.

"It's strange, isn't it? Different world, same poofy haired wanker." He shook his head.

Xander's hands tightened around his bag. He had the overwhelming urge to give Angelus a holy water shower.

The only thing that stopped him was not wanting to freak out the local vamps, but it was a near thing.


	5. FIVE

The old lust for blood and violence wanted Spike to rush in and join the fray. He was more than his instincts though, and he wasn't about to leave Xander and the French girl unprotected. So he settled in to watch the show, and what a show it was.

The vampires of this world were all about posturing and showing their power. They'd put off going for the throat to get in a few extra minutes of monologuing and looking pretty. A Slayer would have hewn through them before the fun could even start.

His lip curled. Anita Blake was the nearest thing this world had to a Slayer, and from what he could tell, she was close to becoming a monster herself. It wouldn't take much of a push to get her over the edge.

From their first introduction to this world, he'd been careful to keep Xander away from the vamps. His boy was a nummy treat, and the last thing he wanted was for someone to take an interest in Xander. Especially not Jean-Claude, as word on the street said that Anita had a serious jealous streak, one just looking for an excuse to kill the competition.

Spike wasn't looking to start a war with the locals, but he wouldn't hesitate if any of them looked sideways at Xander. And he had the advantage of numbers on his side.

Give him a week, and he could unleash a plague of vampires on this world. He wouldn't want to do it, as he was supposed to be redeemed, but he'd found that the soul hadn't changed who he was all that much. He was still love's bitch. And to protect Xander (or avenge him) he would unleash hell on Earth. It was in his nature.

"Spike," Xander said, snapping him out of his own head.

"It'll be all right," Spike said, keeping his eyes focused on the action in front. He trusted Xander to let him know if anyone was trying to creep in from the sides.

Jean-Claude and his vamps surrounded the room, but they were careful to stay out of the Kill Zone. Spike thought that was smart of them, as Anita seemed a bit too trigger happy. She didn't even seem to care that bullets could pass through bodies to hit the people behind her targets. She was like someone playing a video game, pointing and shooting, barely pausing to reload.

She'd shot Drusilla--and Spike didn't feel a twinge about that, he didn't--but for the most part the vamps managed to stay out of the way of her bullets. Which didn't mean she stopped shooting, it just meant she left more gouges in the bar and the plaster on the walls.

When her gun finally clicked empty, Spike nearly wanted to laugh. Looked like this world's Angelus wasn't stupid; he'd maneuvered her right where he wanted her: away from Jean-Claude and in grabbing distance of an angry looking Darla.

The vampires of this world could move fast and they had all kinds of supernatural powers the humans couldn't resist. They were the top of the food chain and they knew it. The only thing keeping them in check was all their in-fighting and the sheer numbers and ingenuity of the human race. From what Spike could figure, the advent of automatic weapons had been a serious lesson in humility.

Still, things were different for him and Xander. The vampires here might be able to fly and were pretty to look at, but the magic of this world was a dispersed thing, tied to biology and expressing itself in physical changes and relatively minor spells.

Near everyone had a bit of something extra in them, but in the end it was nothing to a world with a Hellmouth. There would be no reality-changing wishes or self-aware zombies. This world had laws that refused to bend and everything could be explained by science.

Spike was a demon wearing a human body and carrying a human soul. Xander was a Seer, more demon than human. They were outside of the natural order of things, something Spike realized when he watched the fight happening in front of him and saw only weakness.

Darla had Anita by the throat, easily holding the struggling woman. Jean-Claude's people froze, the room going breathless. Angelus' laughter rolled out, darkly delighted. He was already celebrating his victory.

"Well, this has been fun," Angelus gloated. "What are you going to do now, Jean-Claude? Your Human Servant involved herself in this fight, attacked us most viciously. No one would blame us if Darla were to snap her neck. You have been a most inhospitable host, after all."

"Let her go, mon ami," Jean-Claude said. Power blazed behind his eyes and his face gleamed like a mask, the humanity sucked back into his skin to let something else show. "There is no reason for us to fight. There was no reason for you to have troubled this place. Come back to the Circus and we can talk like friends."

"Where was the friendship before your human allowed herself to be caught?" Angelus tsked. "Weak, Jean-Claude, very weak. Everyone has been tiptoeing around about how you've become such a fearsome Master, yet here I am looking at you and all I see is that same weak sniveling thing Belle Morte used to lead around. Only now you let a human hold your leash."

Anita cursed and writhed in Darla's grasp, her words choking off when Darla squeezed. "Hush, little girl. The adults are talking."

Jean-Claude didn't glance at Anita, his eyes locked with Angelus'. "Why have you come here? Really?"

Angelus threw his arms wide. "Why, to visit my dear friend and see this wondrous New World. It has been a long time since I've visited the colonies and I wanted to see how they fared without me." He made a moue. "Not very well, I see. Upstarts like you think they can flout the rules and proper respect. Master Aurelius is most displeased."

"Is he talking about _the Master_?" Xander whispered.

Spike waved him silent, not wanting to draw attention. He should have known this Angelus would have the same instinct for focusing on what people wanted him to forget.

Angelus turned his head to meet Spike's eyes. "And what are you, that wears the face of our sweet William?"

Spike stared back at him, letting nothing show on his face. Inside he was scrambling for something to say. There was a part of him that would always cringe at the sight of his grandsire's displeased expression, bracing for the feel of boots and fists. Soul-having Angel had only managed to hit those buttons a few times, but this Angelus, while different, was startlingly the same. It made Spike's lies wither before he could think of them, and he hated the sudden heaviness in his cock, that simpering need to appease.

"He's a Doppleganger," Xander said, standing at Spike's side. "And he belongs to me."

"And who are you?" Angelus asked.

"True names have power. You may call me Xander, and this is Spike. We're fey."

Spike did not turn his head. He did not stare at Xander. He stood silent and watchful, letting Xander take the lead in this. But he was ready to respond if anyone made a move toward Xander.

He was ready to kill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was just a bit of Spike. Xander will explain his lies in the next section.


	6. SIX

There was something in the line of Spike's back that told Xander he needed a rescue. There was a lot of Angelus-shaped baggage in Spike's history, things he'd never dealt with. So even knowing it was a bad idea to draw attention to himself, Xander put himself forward.

"Fey?" Angelus raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Xander said. He forced himself to look relaxed even though the situation was weird: a bunch of angry vampires and lycanthropes ready to lunge forward at the first sign of an opening; Anita Blake held on her tippy-toes by Darla's hand clamped around her neck; and Angelus looking at him as though he'd found a new toy he couldn't wait to play with. Xander could have done without the interest--being fascinating to a psychopath was not a good thing at all.

"We're on what I suppose you'd call my walkabout or Rumspringa," Xander said. "I get to see the human world and Spike keeps me safe. Your William's is the last face he chose. We weren't expecting to see it here."

"And who are you that you need a bodyguard?" Angelus asked.

Xander shrugged. "No one too important. I told them I would be fine alone, but my family is protective." And how weird was it that he was thinking of Angel and Wesley when he said that? He wondered which one he saw as his mom and which one was his dad, then had to hold back an inappropriate grin. Angel was definitely the hulking mama bear type, plus fey were matriarchal from what he'd read.

Spike must have been doing that weird Xander mind reading thing, because he said, "It would cause an incident if anything were to happen to us. His mother is the worrying sort, and I've seen her torture and kill the childer of her enemies before she even bothered with the ones she was after. She's a real queen of the night type. Master of vast domains and all that."

"If she's so important, then why would she bother with something like you?" William demanded.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Spike asked, thickening his accent to obnoxious levels.

William opened his mouth to say something--most likely an insult--but Angelus' raised hand silenced him.

"Why are you involving yourself here?" Angelus looked at Xander, scraped his gaze across him until Xander wanted to cover himself with his hands.

Xander licked his lips, then wished he hadn't when Angelus' eyes followed the motion.  Don't tempt the psychopath , he thought half-hysterically.

"As you can see, I am a male of my kind," he said. "I don't much like violence outside of the Bloodlust. Plus we've been working here, which gives us some obligation to return Jean-Claude's hospitality. So I feel like I should tell you that killing the Executioner might not be a good idea."

"And why's that?" Angelus asked, intrigued.

"Because I'm a Seer, and I can tell you that killing Anita Blake does not end well for you." Xander kept his back straight and met Angelus' eyes head on.

There was a sense of pressure, but Angelus couldn't roll him. Xander kept his relief hidden, but he'd been afraid he was being a fool, that Angelus would be able to plow right through his brain and turn him into a bumbling meat puppet. Thank Zeus for wacky demon powers coming to the rescue.

"Hm. You're an interesting boy, fey Xander. I wonder what you look like inside, all red and bones, or something new to play with." Angelus stared at him a minute longer, making Xander seriously worry about peeing himself. Finally Angelus turned to Jean-Claude. "Peace for now,  dear friend . We'll take your human with us and leave her at the end of the block when we go. We'll have a tete-a-tete at your Circus in two nights."

"You're not taking me anywhere you  urk \--" Anita's shout choked off. Darla kept squeezing long enough that Anita went limp from lack of oxygen, but not long enough to kill her.

"Your word that you won't try to keep her?" Jean-Claude asked with what had to be forced calm. His eyes were glowing like a jack-o-lantern, an almost neon blue.

Angelus' lips curved up. "My word as an Aurelius."

Which probably means nothing , Xander thought. Though maybe things were different in this world than at home, where Angelus had been a lying murdering fiend.

"Very well. We will meet in two nights at the Circus of the Damned," Jean-Claude said.

"And you will offer proper hospitality?" Angelus asked.

"Oui. There will be much blood for you to sample."

"Let's go," Angelus said to Darla. He glanced at Xander. "You should come to our party, interesting boy. I haven't tasted fey blood in much too long." He grinned.

They left as suddenly as they'd arrived. Angelus boldly strutted toward Jean-Claude's guys, who parted before him like he was a king. William carried Drusilla in his arms like a fairy tale bride, her long dress fluttering against his legs. Darla took Anita, a couple of Jean-Claude's vamps going with to make sure he actually got her back. And Xander sagged against Spike's side in relief that neither of them were dead--managing to slip Spike a mini-squirt gun in case they were about to have a close encounter of the fang-faced kind.

Jean-Claude stood in the middle of the room, his face blank and his body motionless. Asher was at his side, golden blond hair falling over one side of his face, hiding it. Richard was pacing in small circles, muscles flexing through his shirt. His werewolves echoed their leader's agitation. They'd been ready for a fight, and it would take time for them to come down from the adrenaline high.

Everything was a lock for about ten minutes. Then the doors reopened and the two vampires were back, one of them carrying a complaining Anita.

Life flooded back into Jean-Claude's face. "Ma petite." He rushed over to check on her as she was seated on a chair.

"I'm fine," she growled, slapping his worried hands away. "I'm going to kill that bitch next time I see her." She rested her elbows on the round table in front of her, massaging the reddened flesh of her neck. She was going to have an impressive set of fingerprint bruises.

Jean-Claude sighed and turned away from her, obviously used to her rejecting his fussing concern. Xander felt a bit sorry for him, except that Jean-Claude immediately turned toward him and Spike, finely drawn nostrils flaring.

"And who are you gentlemen, that have entered my territory without a single greeting?" Jean-Claude asked. "You, who have even gone so far as to seek employment at one of my establishments."

"It's like Xander said, we're fey." Now that Angelus was gone, Spike seemed to have his usual attitude back. "We don't follow the usual rules of men and beasts, now do we? We go where we like when we like, and we're outside of the normal laws."

Xander wished he hadn't shared that particular book with Spike. The etchings had been wonderfully detailed and they'd had a lot of fun acting out some of the scenes, but there was a chance Spike was going to get them killed. After all, if vampires were different in this world, the fey had to be too, and they hadn't put in a whole lot of research on the local fairy folk. Just enough to know that salt and iron was useful to keep around.

"Besides, it was good that we were here, otherwise you'd have lost your lady love when Angelus called your bluff," Spike said.

"Angelus? That was Liam of Aurelius," Jean-Claude said.

"Well pardon me," Spike said. "He reminded me of another sadistic bloke I once knew. A fellow that loved to play with his food and happily broke everyone else's toys just because he could."

"It seems as though you do know Liam," Asher said, laying a hand on Jean-Claude's arm. "Perhaps we should take this elsewhere. The humans are beginning to stir."

"You will come with us," Jean-Claude said, staring at Spike. He'd already figured out which one of them was the dangerous one, or at least the one more likely to go on a berserker rampage.

"What about the girl?" Xander asked. She was still huddled on the floor, her arms wrapped around herself. "She needs a hospital."

"I'll call Zebrowski," Anita said, not lifting her head from her arms. "We can drop her off at the hospital on the way. What's a few hours of explanation tomorrow morning?" She trailed off into discontented muttering.

Spike moved in front of Xander. "Your word that you won't try anything against me and mine?"

"Unless you are an active danger, we will only be talking tonight," Jean-Claude said. From the close way he was watching Spike's face, he must have known that fey took promises seriously.

"Well all right then," Spike said. "If we feel like we can't keep it civilized any longer, then Xander and I will be free to leave. Agreed?"

Xander held his breath, his hand tightening on the strap of his bag. Spike would hold them off long enough for him to pull a weapon, though he wasn't sure anything they had could do any real damage to a rampaging were. Silver had been outside of their price range when they were putting together their weapons collection.

Jean-Claude looked at Spike a moment longer. "Agreed," he finally said. And Xander didn't sag in relief the way he wanted to. "We will talk like civilized beings."

"Yeah, civilized," Spike said.

Asher had pulled out his cellphone and was speaking quietly. He ended the call, tucking his phone into the inner pocket of his jacket. "The cars are pulling up out front," he said to Jean-Claude. "We should go. The clean up will be handled without us."

Xander assumed Asher wanted his boss off the scene in case the cops showed. There was a whole club full of people that were going to have some questions when they woke up. If any of them were smart, they would learn their lesson and stay away from vampires in the future, but he figured most of them wouldn't.

Humans could be almost suicidally stupid. And in this world, they'd decided to be best friends with the monsters. Like putting a nice face on something that saw people as food made it all right.

At least Spike's always been honest about what he is , Xander thought.  Even when it would have been comforting if he'd lied .

Xander met Spike's eye and gave him a nod. They'd go with Jean-Claude and his minions, but at the first sign of trouble they'd make a break for it. Peacefully if possible, or violently if they had to. And they'd take the girl--Penelope--with them when they went.

**Author's Note:**

> The changes in the Buffyverse that made it AU:
> 
> Because of Xander's involvement with Spike, things between him and Cordelia ended up a little different. They had a fairly amiable breakup, so Anyanka was never called upon.
> 
> Buffy and crew cut Xander out of the graduation planning, so they had to find an alternate means of handling the Mayor. Because of that, Cordelia ended up dead, which lead to Xander running away to L.A.
> 
> Xander takes Cordelia's place on the Angel-crew, hooks up with Doyle, and is the one that ends up with the Visions. Also, because he takes the place of Cordelia, it's pretty much assured that most of the Cordelia arcs (Jasmine!) were wiped out of the equation.
> 
> Because Cordelia never called on Anyanka, Willow never had the opportunity to call up Olaf. Because there was no Olaf, there was no troll-hammer, which is why Buffy only has a magic sword to work with.
> 
> Because Spike wasn't in Sunnydale and didn't become obsessed with Buffy, there is no Buffybot to be used during the summer after Glory.


End file.
